Trials 2: Harry's Trials
by TerriTrek
Summary: Sequel to Trials 1: Tom's Trials - Harry Kim is feeling left out as Paris and Torres become a couple. He stumbles into a relationship of his own---but accidentally ignites a battle of the sexes aboard Voyager.


TRIALS 2: HARRY'S TRIALS

VOY Trials Series

PG 13 for adult themes, P/T, K/f

DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the show, the characters, and the best parts of the

known world. This story and Shadow and Dishon are mine. Ethan Simms, Janine Lamont, and Mikel Hudson are inventions of the PT Collective. This is intended for fan enjoyment since there are not enough stories to satisfy the Voyager-hungry fans.

This is for fun, not profit. Please give credit where credit is due. I did the work.

SYNOPSIS: Sequel to Trials 1: Tom's Trials - Harry Kim is feeling left out as Paris and Torres become a couple. He stumbles into a relationship of his own---but accidentally ignites a battle of the sexes aboard Voyager.

Please do not distribute without this header and my permission. Remember feedback is important to authors. Without it, we become discouraged and stop writing. Which means you stop reading. Please provide detailed feedback if possible.

TRIALS 2: HARRY'S TRIALS

by Terri Zavaleta,

**********************

The senior staff meeting was winding to a close when Captain Kathryn Janeway asked the doctor for his report. The EMH cleared his throat, "Crewman Malista Shadow has made some progress, Captain. She's still withdrawn and distant towards me, and she continues to feel some anger towards Mr. Paris for preventing her suicide. It is my opinion that she could be released to her quarters with some supervision. It might aid in her recovery. Keeping her isolated in Sickbay is not helping her and may actually be detrimental."

"Commander?"

"I've talked to her, Captain. She wants *out* of Sickbay. In our last counseling session, she did talk to me and vented her anger towards Tom, but she still feels very close to him. I think it would be appropriate at this time to allow him to visit her," Chakotay suggested.

All eyes turned to Tom Paris. He kept his gaze on the table and cleared his throat nervously. "What would I say? I'm not a counselor. I wouldn't know---" He paused and cleared his throat again.

The others exchanged looks, no one knowing what to tell him. Finally, Chakotay spoke, "Right now you're her only friend, Tom. She feels cut off from people and embarrassed. She's afraid that the whole crew knows what went on and she'll have to make explanations. In my opinion, she's begun to find reasons of her own to go on living without Dishon, or anyone else, as the central focus of her life, but we need to facilitate the process by helping her come out of herself. I plan to continue meeting with her, but you're the only person she's willing to confide in at this point."

Janeway noticed with a spark of amusement that her first officer had begun referring to the pilot by his first name and that his voice no longer held the usual hint of disapproval. That was progress. They evidently had found some common ground in helping Malista Shadow. "If you like, I'll come with you to see her, Mr. Paris," the captain offered.

Paris sent her a nervous smile. "No, I don't think so, Captain. She's got a right to yell at me in private if she wants. I did meddle in her life."

Out of sight, under the table, Torres found his hand with her own and squeezed his fingers as she growled, "You saved her life. Remember that."

Paris turned to her, gratitude for her support illuminating those fascinating blue eyes. "Thanks, B'Ella---B'Elanna!" He corrected his slip quickly, hoping no one had noticed the nickname or, if they had, knew its meaning. "But I had help from Chakotay, and you and Harry, remember? The problem now is making it easy for her to fit in again."

"She was beginning to before Dishon died," Harry noted.

"Let us know what we can do to help, Mr. Paris," Janeway added. "If that's all?" No one responded. "Dismissed."

Everyone rose and went to their duty stations.

***********

"Hi, Doc! How's it going?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Paris," the Emergency Medical Hologram responded. "Since you don't seem to be bleeding, bruised, or unconscious this time, I assume you've come to see Crewman Shadow. She's in the adjoining room." He gestured, then turned his full attention back to his workstation.

Paris crossed Sickbay and signaled at the doorway. He barely heard the response from the room's occupant. Malista was sitting on a biobed, staring out a viewport at the passing parade of stars with a listless expression.

"Hello." Paris stopped there, waiting for a reaction that would tell him what to do next.

She turned her head slowly to look at him. It had been two weeks since the explosive decompression of the cargo bay that had killed Malista's best friend, Niko Dishon and almost killed the two of them. The bruising had finally healed and faded, leaving her skin its normal shade of light tan. It had been ten days since she had attempted to commit suicide by drinking poison---or by using her backup plan of slitting her own throat. Her eyes were the only part of her face that seemed alive. They danced with anger as they looked him over. "Tom."

"Malista. How are you feeling?"

"Lousy. You?"

"Are we back to two words at a time?" he inquired.

"Just tell me why," she demanded through clenched teeth.

"Why what?"

"Why did you stop me?" She turned back to the viewport as if it hurt to look at him. "Why did you have to stop me?"

He wasn't going to let her ignore him. She had a habit of retreating. He wasn't going to let her do it this time. He moved in front of her, blocking her view and standing close enough to keep her from jumping off the bed and moving away from him. "That's a stupid question, Malista. Do you remember what we talked about on the holodeck? At Lake Como? The first time I took you there?"

"We talked about a lot of things." Her green eyes gazed at her hands, folded in her lap.

"You said you knew about Caldik Prime. You knew I lost three friends there?" Paris couldn't believe he was talking about this again. He'd promised himself he'd leave it behind. But if it would help someone else---.

"Yes." There was no emotion in her voice.

"You knew Pete Durst?"

She frowned slightly at that, not getting the connection. "Yes."

"That's why." He had her attention now as she tried to puzzle out his reply. "You would have been the fifth."

"The fifth what?" Now she was looking at him, trying to read his face.

Paris voice was slightly choked, his eyes bright as he replied, "The fifth one I couldn't save. If I'd let you---if you'd died---" He stopped to sniff and clear his throat, keeping his eyes locked on hers. "If you'd died, and I hadn't done everything I could possibly do to stop it, I would have had your face in my nightmares too. And they're populated enough."

She stared at him silently for a moment. Tears she'd held back for too long were wetting her lashes, yet she refused to let them fall. She tried to drive them away with her fingertips. "It was my choice."

"It was the wrong choice! You didn't think how it would affect other people! That's damned selfish, Malista!" he accused.

"Selfish?!"

"Yes, selfish. Did it occur to you that someone would have found your body? What effect would that have on that someone? Did it occur to you that the people who care about you would be sad? Hurt? Guilty?" He put his hands on the bed on either side of her, pinning her in place without touching her.

"No. I didn't think anyone would care," she mumbled, her eyes dropping once more under that intense sapphire glare.

"Well, I care. Chakotay cares. Captain Janeway, B'Elanna---shall I go on?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What?" Tom pretended deafness.

She gazed up at him and spoke a little louder. "I said I'm sorry."

"You should be," Tom muttered indignantly. "You're a part of the Voyager family now, Malista. We need you. We all need each other. People care about you---as much as you let them. If you've been alone, it's been your choice. Now, it's time to make another choice. You're going to join the family. Whether you like it or not."

Malista considered him thoughtfully. "Tom, in this family, what exactly is your role?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "Can I call you---Dad?"

He was startled into a grin. "Hell, no! That's Chakotay's role. And we've got Mama Janeway. You can call me big brother! I've never been a big brother. I was the baby of my family." He straightened and started to move back to give her room, but froze when she held up a hand.

"Big brother?"

"Yes, little sister?"

She smiled at him a little shyly. "Do you think maybe I could have a hug?"

Tom smiled gently. He was touched that she was so comfortable with him. She usually flinched away from physical contact with anyone. "That's what big brothers do best," he said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her as she slid off the bed. "That's good. People hug better when they're standing up," he whispered in her ear. "A comprehensive hug."

They embraced for several minutes, unmoving, not speaking, deriving solace from the warmth and physical contact. Tom felt silent tears against his shoulder, but didn't comment or react, except to rub her back gently with his hands in a patting motion until she stirred. As she moved back, Tom released her. "Tom, how many people know? About this? About what I did---tried to do?"

Paris thought for a moment. He owed her honesty. "Only the people who were there or had to know. It's a confidential matter. The Doctor. Kes. Chakotay, B'Elanna, Harry, Tuvok, and the Captain."

"Harry and B'Elanna?" she questioned. She understood how the others would know or why they'd be informed.

"They were there in the holodeck with us. So was Chakotay. Harry and B'Elanna were the ones who used the transporter."

"They were in the holodeck? I thought you were the only one there," she said, frowning in puzzlement.

"Naw. You just thought so because you were dazzled by my blond good looks. Happens all the time. People don't notice anyone else when I'm in the room," he boasted, glad to lighten the mood.

"Really?" She raised one eyebrow at him, content to let him change the subject and grateful for his light touch of humor. "And that's a good thing?"

"Sure. Are you ready to go to your quarters?"

She hesitated. "I guess so. Are you going to go with me?"

"That's what big brothers are for---to provide safe passage for their little sisters."

"I thought you said they were for giving hugs." She began to gather her few belongings. "And I'm not that little." At just over six feet in height, she didn't think of herself as a little anything. Of course, Tom was almost three inches taller, so technically speaking he was correct.

"Hey! I'm multi-talented!" he acknowledged modestly. "Come on, let's get you settled back into your quarters then we'll go down to the mess hall for dinner. Harry and B'Elanna are going to meet us there." He took the bag from her hand, linked his arm through hers and walked her toward the Sickbay exit.

"Tom, I don't know if I'm ready to---be seen in public," she murmured.

He smiled at her reassuringly. "You can handle it. And I'll be with you all the way. Besides, if anyone gives us a funny look, we'll let B'Elanna pounce on them. She's so aggravated at those sensors for misbehaving, she'd welcome any excuse for a rough and tumble."

"I'm going to tell her you said that," Malista promised, humor dancing in her eyes as she thought of the hot-tempered engineering chief's reaction.

"No!" Tom whined. "You're not supposed to rat on me!"

"I thought that was what little sisters did best."

"I hereby disown you!" proclaimed the lieutenant.

"You can't. It's a lifetime deal. No refunds, no returns, no exchanges."

"I didn't know that," Tom said, with exaggerated amazement.

"It's in the fine print," she replied smugly, rubbing her cheek fondly against his shoulder.

****************

Having stowed her gear, badgered her into changing into a comfortably baggy green jumpsuit, and brushed her short, black hair himself, Paris led Malista Shadow to the mess hall. She pulled up short near the entrance. He gazed at her inquiringly.

"Tom," she stammered, "I don't know---everyone will look at me."

"Of course they will," he said cajolingly. "You look great in that outfit. It brings out the green in your eyes."

"Tom. It's just so embarrassing."

He straightened his face and looked her in the eyes. "If you're going to worry about people staring---don't look at them. Don't make eye contact. Just look at me. When we go in, I'll let you sit down with B'Elanna and Harry and get your tray. You know B'Elanna. You'll like Harry when you get to know him. Then once you're sitting at the table, you can look at one of them--- or gaze at me adoringly---which would be a better choice ---or---if you're really desperate, you can try to figure out what Neelix is serving. Come on."

Eyeing him doubtfully, she took his hand before they stepped into the dining room. Ensign Kim and Lt. Torres were seated at their usual table not far from the door. They looked up as the door slid open and smiled a greeting at the pair. Harry got to his feet.

Tom noticed that Malista was not only holding his hand but trying to disappear behind him as if she could make herself invisible. She was so self-conscious she was sure everyone was gawking at them---at her. Tom put her in the chair next to Harry and across from B'Elanna, which put her back to the room and its other occupants. "Harry, I don't know if you've ever been formally introduced. Harry, this is Malista Shadow. Malista, this is Harry Kim. Harry, make yourself useful. Come get a tray for Malista."

Harry followed his friend obediently while Shadow looked surprised. She glanced across the table at Torres. "Is Tom always so bossy?"

The chief engineer smiled at her. "When he can get away with it. And with Harry he can get away with a lot."

"But not with you?" Malista relaxed a bit now that no one had made a scene upon her entrance. She flinched back in her chair as Kim appeared at her side and placed a tray on the table in front of her.

"Sorry," Kim said. "I guess you didn't hear us coming." He could have kicked himself. Tom had told him she didn't like to be touched and was skittish about people invading her personal space. He could understand why. He seated himself and picked up his fork to stab at the food on his plate unenthusiastically.

"That was fast," Torres commented. "Of course, there's not exactly a stampede to get to this." She poked the gelatinous brown lump on her plate and watched it quiver for a few seconds. Her engineer's mind had her timing the intervals between shimmies.

"I always get fast service," Paris said in a mock whisper. "Don't tell anyone, but I'm a friend of the cook."

"If you're a friend, why does he feed you this stuff? And what is this? Did he grow it or find it?" Torres replied. She speared a bit of it on her fork and held it up until it slid off and plopped back onto her plate with a splat.

"How are we going to eat it, if you keep talking about it?" Kim complained. "It's bad enough to look at it, without speculating about its origin!"

Malista started to smile at the banter and automatically put a hand up to cover her mouth. Tom caught at her wrist, but she snatched it out of his reach. "What?" she demanded.

"I told you before you are not allowed to cover up your pretty smile!" Tom reminded her grumpily. "Lord knows, we need something pretty to compensate for the offense this food does to our sensibilities."

"Stop being so overbearing, Tom," B'Elanna commented.

"Hey, she's my sister. I can boss her if I want. It's in the rules."

"Since when is she your sister?" Harry Kim asked, amused by Paris' defiant expression.

"Where in the rules?" Malista said suspiciously.

"In the fine print," Paris replied virtuously.

"Oh, really?" Her tone was menacing.

"Of course. Would I lie about the fine print?" Tom asked blandly.

"Since he decided I needed a keeper," Shadow replied shortly in an aside to Harry Kim since Tom was ignoring his question. Eyeing Tom she added, "And speaking of fine print---" She darted a glance at B'Elanna.

"Malista! Don't you dare!" Tom feigned panic, glancing from Shadow to Torres apprehensively.

"Okay, Malista, what did he do now?" Torres said, with a mock sigh of exasperation, abandoning her dinner with relief.

"What fine print?" Harry asked. He'd lost the thread of the conversation--- if he'd ever had it.

"Malista! Haven't you ever heard of family secrets?" Paris lamented.

Shadow raised an eyebrow at the pilot then quickly glanced at Kim. "The fine print that defines our new family relationship. He's decided that Voyager is a family unit and he's going to be my big brother." She'd isolated herself for so many years that it was a strain for her to join in a four-way conversation, but it seemed to make Tom happy so she would make the effort. She owed him that much.

Harry Kim grinned at her. "That makes two of us. He just never spelled it out with me. Hi, Sis!" A smile twitched at the corners of her lips, but she kept her eyes on the table---or on Tom.

"Geez, how many relatives am I going to get stuck with---have, I mean?" Paris complained to Torres.

"I don't know. You started it. But what's this about family secrets?" B'Elanna repeated, as much to keep Tom on a roll as because she wanted to know.

"Shh! We can't discuss that here, can we, little sister? It isn't very private. Besides it's a very well-documented fact that mealtime conversations should be peaceful so your sense of well-being will allow for good digestion," Tom explained.

"But, Tom, we aren't eating," Shadow commented sweetly. She slowly batted her green eyes at him, trying to throw him off track.

"I have an idea!" he exclaimed as if suddenly struck by a notion. "Let's go to Sandrine's and I'll use my replicator credits to buy dinner there."

"Are you sure you have enough credits, Lieutenant?" Torres inquired, with a sly smile.

"Well, I will have if you don't collect from me on that bet we made on the pool game last night," Paris suggested, flashing his brilliant smile persuasively in her direction. He was on his feet gathering the trays and dishes of uneaten food to take them to the bins. Harry stood and helped him.

B'Elanna's brown eyes traveled up and down Paris' fit body. "Maybe I'll take the debt out in trade."

"What?" Paris and Kim chorused, eyes widening. Kim looked slightly shocked. Paris was suspicious. Shadow smothered a laugh behind both hands, her eyes lit with amusement. She'd served with Torres for two years on the smaller Maquis ship and knew her sense of humor.

"Well," B'Elanna drawled, "You're in good shape and I could always use extra hands for cleaning, degaussing, and stripping down equipment in Engineering." She got to her feet and grabbed Tom's arm. "Come on, Flyboy! If you're buying, I'll try that---what is that stuff you always want to eat?"

"Moo goo gai pan," Tom replied. "With Chow Mein noodles."

Harry exchanged glances with Malista as he let her precede him in Tom's wake. "Replicated Chinese food?"

Malista shrugged and walked beside Harry, trying once more to become invisible as they traveled the ship's corridors.

**************

As the evening wore on, the strain began to show. They weren't a foursome. They were a couple, plus one, plus one. Although Paris persisted in treating Malista and Harry as if they were a pair, it was awkward. Tom and B'Elanna were getting to know each other as a couple and concentrating a lot of attention on each other. Malista Shadow, on the other hand, seemed content to be a silent audience.

During dinner Paris embarrassed Harry by bragging on him like a proud older brother until Kim finally kicked him under the table, ignoring Tom's shocked look and B'Elanna's fierce grin.

Malista seemed uncomfortable when Tom continued to try to draw her into a conversation with Harry. Sometimes it seemed she drifted off a melancholy distance in her mind until Paris or Torres said or did something outrageous or inflammatory---which they did more often than usual---to recall her attention. The only voice she invariably responded to was Tom's.

Harry could understand that. Tom was being charming and trying to distract Malista and ensure that everyone had a good time. Tom was always charming and women constantly sought his attention and approval.

Sometimes it could be really annoying.

Harry Kim was beginning to feel invisible himself. It was as if Malista didn't hear anything that he said. She didn't seem to feel comfortable with him at all and, for the first time, in a long time, he was beginning to feel tongue-tied and self-conscious.

The contrast between himself and Tom had never been so one-sided and obvious to Harry before. He felt young, inexperienced, and gauche sitting next to the epitome of cool, handsome sophistication. He tried to think of an acceptable excuse to call it a night and leave.

"Harry?" It was Tom, in a teasing mode. "Tom Paris to Harry Kim. Are you out there, Mr. Kim?"

Kim looked up to see he was the focus of all eyes at the table, even Malista's. He was a little embarrassed at being caught daydreaming. "What? Sorry, did I miss something?"

"Just the last fifteen minutes of my brilliant monologue on the creative ramifications of chocolate as an art form," Paris informed him solemnly. "Ambient temperature plays a large part, as well as texture, style---"

Harry stuck his index finger in his ear and wiggled it around. "What? I swear if the word chocolate had been mentioned, I would have heard it. I have automatic tracking sensors when it comes to chocolate."

Torres rolled her eyes and included Malista with her glance. "These two get weirder as the day wears on. And what is this thing about chocolate? Never mind!" She interrupted before either man could answer. "That isn't what he was talking about anyway, Harry. Tom was asking when your next concert is going to be."

Kim tried to concentrate on the question. "Sue Nicoletti and I are trying to round up more instrumentalists. There are only so many numbers you can perform with an oboe and clarinet duet." His dark eyes opened wide as he remembered something that had slipped his mind. "Oh, T-o-o-o-m!" he crowed.

"Don't look at me!" Paris said, hiding his face behind his hands with false modesty. "I'm not ready to play the piano in public." He held his hands in front of his chest and interlocked his fingers as if limbering them. "Give me at least six months of practice and I'll play The Minute Waltz in forty-five seconds at the next talent show."

"Now there's an accomplishment!" Torres snorted.

"I've gone to your concerts, Harry. You're all very talented," Shadow murmured.

"Thanks," Kim said. "I don't remember seeing you there." The minute he heard the words come out of his mouth, he wanted to recall them. He hoped she wouldn't take it the wrong way. He hadn't meant to insult her.

"I was trying not to be seen," she replied noncommittally. "I'm good at it."

"How can anyone not see six feet something of pretty woman?" Paris asked derisively, casting a slightly critical look in Harry's direction.

"You'd be surprised," Torres said. "She can disappear into a crowd faster than anyone I've ever seen. How do you do that, Malista?"

Malista got to her feet as she said, "Magic! And I'm going to use it now to disappear to my quarters."

Tom and Harry rose as a matter of courtesy and Tom gave Harry a speaking look.

Harry regarded Malista politely. "If you'd like, I'll walk you to your door," he volunteered.

Unfortunately, Malista had intercepted Tom's unspoken signal and knew that it wasn't Kim's idea. "No, thank you, Harry. You stay here and enjoy yourself. I'm a big girl. I can find my way home." Before she'd finished her last sentence, she was walking out the exit.

Harry shrugged at Tom. "I tried."

Paris, somewhat exasperated with his friend's lack of success, turned to Torres. "I'll be right back. I want to make sure she isn't upset about---anything."

B'Elanna started to protest, but swallowed her words as Tom darted out of the holodeck in pursuit of Malista Shadow. She stared at Harry Kim. "Well?"

"B'Elanna, I tried to be friendly. I think she just doesn't like me," the ensign replied as much to her expression as to her words. "I couldn't seem to say one thing right tonight either."

Torres patted his hand comfortingly. "It's okay, Harry. I don't think she dislikes you. We just don't know her very well. And she's had a hard time lately. Maybe--- she felt uncomfortable because we know too much about her."

"That might be it," Kim replied unhappily. "I hope she's not too upset."

*************

Paris finally caught up with Shadow in the deserted corridor twenty feet short of her door. "Malista! Wait, I want to talk to you."

She whirled to face him. "About what?" Her face, no longer its former inexpressive mask, revealed that she was furious. "What do we need to talk about this time, Tom?"

The lieutenant spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "For starters, what are you so annoyed about?" he asked gently. "I thought you were having a good time."

"I was---sort of. Until it became obvious---do we have to talk about this now? I am tired. And I'm trying to get accustomed to changing over to the Alpha shift so I need to get some sleep."

Tom drew closer, but didn't attempt to touch her. He leaned against the wall next to her and studied her carefully. "Come on, little sister, what's the real problem?"

"You're pushing me, Tom," she said bluntly.

He widened his blue eyes and appeared positively cherubic with his blonde, boyish handsomeness and sweet smile. "Who, me?"

She didn't respond to his attempt at humor. She leaned against the wall opposite him and crossed her arms.

Seeing she was serious, Paris crossed his own arms, and mimicked her serious expression. "Okay. Tell me what I did---so I won't do it again."

She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, gnawing at it for a moment as if mentally composing her next words. She opened her eyes. "There've been a lot of major changes in my life in the last two weeks. Actually, my whole life has been on hold for the last five years. I have to start over---but I need to do it at my own pace."

"And I'm rushing you?"

"You want me to be normal. You want me to get over---" her voice broke as she fought to retain her composure. "I told you so much I'd never told anyone---not even Niko. I understand you're my friend and you want me to get over what happened on Huldon III. You want me to get over Niko's death. But, Tom, I can't just suddenly start acting like everyone else on this ship. I need time. I don't even know who I was before---much less who I am now. I'm working with Commander Chakotay in regaining a sense of myself, but I'm not ready---." She stopped. A single tear was making its way down her left cheek.

"Malista," Tom said, stepping toward her. His right hand came up and tenderly wiped the tear away. "I won't push. But I won't let you run and hide in your quarters all the time either. I won't chase you, if you don't run. If I promise not to push, you have to promise not to retreat. Okay?"

She nodded. They turned and he walked her to her door. She hit the keypad with her entry code and it slid open. "Tom, just one more thing," she said as he turned to go.

"What?"

"Don't try to pair me off with Harry," she said pointedly. "It will only embarrass both of us. I don't think he likes me very much. And he doesn't have to like me. But he does like you and B'Elanna. I like you and B'Elanna, but I don't want to be a fifth wheel. You don't have to invite me everywhere you go. You might be my big brother---but you aren't my keeper. You are not responsible for me."

Tom raised his eyebrows, trying and failing to look innocent. "I don't know what you're talking about, Sis."

"I'm talking about the way you kept pushing me at him, as if I was his date. Stop it. You can't expect him to like me, just because you do. I don't need anyone being nice to me because they feel sorry for me. I don't want to make him ---uncomfortable."

"Harry's my friend. If you spend time with me, you'll automatically spend time with him---and B'Elanna. It would be nice if you three could find some common ground and become friends. But I won't push it."

"Yeah, sure." She shut the door in his face.

Paris smirked to himself as he returned to Sandrine's. "This could get interesting."

*************

Chakotay watched with a concerned frown as Crewman Shadow moved restlessly about his quarters, her arms and hands fluttering as if she wasn't sure what to do with Them. They'd met daily for the last two weeks in Sickbay. She'd never acted this way before.

He was used to restless behavior from B'Elanna Torres whose near constant motion stemmed from impatience, anger, or excitement. With Malista Shadow, he was surprised and dismayed to sense that her restlessness was caused by anxiety---or fear. Speaking quietly, in his most soothing voice, he recalled her attention. "Malista? This isn't our first counseling session. What's the problem? You can't seem to relax."

Her eyes jumped to his and she suddenly froze as if just recognizing that she wasn't behaving 'normally'. "I don't know." That seemed to make her even more anxious as she tried to figure out her own motivations.

He raised his eyebrows, but remained seated and waited for her to sit down again. She didn't. She came to stand behind the chair. He wondered if she had put the chair between them deliberately, or unconsciously, for protection. "Are you having trouble sleeping?" He offered her a non-threatening subject for discussion.

She just stared at him. Her mind was nowhere near this room. He moved to lean forward in his chair. She reacted as if he'd pulled a weapon, jumping back two feet and wrapping her arms around herself.

Chakotay froze in place. "Malista? What are you afraid of?"

She turned away from him, leaning against the wall and hugging herself tightly as if she could hold her feelings in, but the words burst out against her will. "I don't like being here alone with you. I don't know why I feel this way. I feel nervous and scared and I don't know why. And I feel stupid for feeling this way."

"What is it you think I'm going to do?" As he spoke, the first officer got to his feet slowly and increased the distance between them till he was standing at the opposite end of the room to lessen her sense of being threatened.

Tears were coursing down her cheeks, she was trembling from the effort of holding herself still. "Nothing. I don't know. That makes it worse. I don't know what I'm afraid of. I can't seem to be around people without being afraid."

"You're afraid when you're around people? Or around men?"

Her head snapped up and she stared at him. "Around men? You think I---I'm afraid---? You might be right, Commander." Having identified some part of her fear seemed to calm her. "Maybe it's as simple as that. I'm afraid of men---or at least uncomfortable." She dropped her arms to her sides.

Chakotay took a step toward her, his hands behind his back. "Think about it, Malista. Are you afraid of me? You served on my Maquis ship for two years and on this ship for three. Have you ever heard anything about me--- my relationships with women---that would lead you to fear me? To fear that I would hurt you?"

"No," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Commander. I'm not being very rational."

"Feelings aren't usually rational. Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes."

"I had you come here because it's private. If you feel uncomfortable being in my quarters, where would you like to hold our counseling sessions? Would you rather meet in your quarters---or in Sickbay?" he suggested.

She drew a shaky breath. "No. Now that I know what was making me jumpy, I can control it. Shouldn't we be sitting down?" She plopped into the chair.

Chakotay flashed his dimples at her in a quick smile. He returned to his own seat. "If you want to. Now, let's talk about this. You functioned without apparent difficulty for several years. Now you suddenly develop a debilitating fear. What triggered it?"

"What do you mean? I haven't been comfortable with men since---since I was raped by the Cardassians at Huldon III. Before that, I was never around men---other than family or friends close enough to be family."

Chakotay considered that statement. "But you never reacted as strongly to being alone with a man as you just did. What's changed?"

"Niko died," she blurted. She covered her face with her hands and rocked her body back and forth in the chair.

"Crewman Dishon stayed very close to you, didn't he? I remember you usually worked together as a team. And if you were off duty and out of your quarters, he was always there. If not actually with you, then he wasn't far away."

She nodded slowly and dropped her hands to gaze at him blankly. "He always took care of me. He kept other men away so they wouldn't bother me."

"Were you and Dishon lovers?"

Shadow jumped at the question as if jolted by a shock. "No! We wouldn't--- we never---he wouldn't!"

"It's okay, Malista. It was just a question, not a judgment. I'm trying to understand your relationship with him. After your shared experience at Huldon III, you two formed a bond. You withdrew from dealing with people and he helped you handle the ones you had to be around. Is that a fair summary?" the first officer asked.

She nodded slowly. "I don't like to feel---trapped. Crowded by a lot of people. I didn't ---don't like men looking at me. It makes me uncomfortable. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. When men came around and bothered me, Niko made them stop. He made other people---men leave me alone."

"How did he do that?" Chakotay knew the answer. He wanted to know if she knew it too.

"He'd warn them to leave me alone. Sometimes--- he'd fight them. Sometimes I think he told them---" She broke off and a flush of red crept up her neck to her face. "I think he told them that I was his. That may be why you thought we---but we didn't! He wasn't interested in me that way. He always felt guilty that he hadn't been able to protect me from the Cardassians. That wasn't rational either. There was nothing he could do---nothing anyone could do."

"So he kept other men from bothering you, even here on Voyager?"

"Yes. But it wasn't---he didn't do much. I mean it wasn't necessary. My size intimidates people. Being over six feet tall---and also I'm not exactly what most men consider feminine. I don't dress up or anything. And I don't---didn't smile or talk to anyone so most people left me alone. He made sure everyone else kept their distance. I don't like---to be touched," she added hesitantly.

"Did Niko ever touch you? A brotherly hug? A kiss on the cheek?" Chakotay inquired.

"No, why?"

"What about Lt. Paris?" Chakotay's instincts told him that he was getting closer to the root of her problem, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Tom?" She was puzzled, but calm and had relaxed enough to sit back in her chair. Even mentioning the pilot's name seemed to bolster her spirits. "What do you mean? What about him?"

"You touch him. I've seen you hold his hand, even hug him."

"He's---he's different," she stammered. "He's my friend."

"I thought Niko was your friend."

"He was, but he---" She ground to a halt. "Niko was there---at Huldon III. He knew---he saw what the Cardassians did to me."

"You told Tom about it."

She was becoming agitated, her hands moving restlessly from her lap to clench the chair's arms and back again. "That's not the same thing. Niko didn't think of me as a woman---I was his responsibility. His albatross."

"Was that his opinion or yours?"

His question made her stop to think before answering. "I don't know. I don't think he wanted me---that way. He thought he had to take care of me."

"Why did you let Tom Paris get close to you? If you're afraid of men? Why do you let him touch you? You aren't afraid to be alone with him, are you?" Even Chakotay wasn't sure why he was pushing on this issue, but he felt it was important.

"No. I'm not afraid of Tom. I don't mind when he touches me," Malista replied slowly, wonderingly. "I'm not sure why. Maybe because he always lets me know he's going to touch me. He gives me time to get ready---and he lets me go when I want to be free. He's just---different. I know---that he wouldn't hurt me---not deliberately. And he doesn't want me as a woman either. He wants B'Elanna. Other women no longer interest him. I wonder if he knows that yet?" she mused.

Chakotay was beginning to feel that he had wildly misjudged the young pilot. Evidently Malista had gotten past Paris' defenses. The man she described was more sensitive and understanding than Chakotay would ever have imagined Tom Paris to be. He had gotten a hint of that when it was Tom who'd first figured out that Malista was going to commit suicide and acted to stop her---at an emotional cost to himself. "Malista, why did you let Tom get close? You didn't make any other friends when you began spending time in the holodeck."

She leaned back in the chair and relaxed into the head rest. Her eyes drifted closed dreamily as she remembered the first time Tom Paris had approached her at Sandrine's. "He was playing pool. With one of the holodeck characters---the one B'Elanna called a pig---I forget his name. I saw him notice me. I was trying to pretend I was invisible, but he noticed me anyway. He asked me what I thought about the game. I tried to get rid of him---pretended I wasn't interested. He asked me if I wanted to learn the game. Then Niko came over and almost started a fight. It was funny. Tom didn't budge. He hardly even looked at Niko. He told Niko to stay out of it. He kept looking at me---not Niko---waiting for a signal from me. Niko was ready to hit a superior officer and I didn't want him to get in trouble, so I told him it was okay. And he kind of looked Tom over and left. It was his eyes," she stated abruptly.

"Sorry?"

"It was his eyes. Tom was lonely. I could see it in his eyes. He has beautiful, expressive blue eyes. The windows to the soul, somebody called them. They let you see behind the mask. I think he could see the loneliness in mine. That's why he spoke to me."

"You're lonely?"

"Yes. Anyway, Tom needed a friend. He got my attention because he understood the literary references I threw out in conversation. I read a lot. So does he. Sometimes I would say something about a character---not an obscure character, but a Terran cultural icon---and I'd get these blank looks from everyone. Sometimes that scared people away from me too. They didn't understand what I was talking about. Doesn't anybody read the classics any more?" she asked plaintively.

She smiled shyly at the First Officer. "Tom's very intelligent, you know. You probably won't believe this---but he says there are some people who actually think that people with blonde hair are dumb. Can you imagine stereotyping according to hair color? Commander, you wouldn't believe some of the things I've heard people say about Tom. And I can't understand how they can believe what they say." She was becoming indignant on Paris' behalf.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," the first officer said, becoming slightly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. He needed to meditate about Paris and what he should do about him. He had an uneasy feeling he owed Tom Paris an apology---maybe more than one.

Chakotay checked the time and noted that he had another appointment. "Malista, think about what we've talked about. It might help you to start keeping a journal, if you don't have one. Give yourself some time to adjust to the changes in your life. You need to get to know yourself and make new friends. I think you're ready to resume your duties which will give you something to do with your time. I'll inform the captain and Lt. Torres. If I can help you, let me know. Tomorrow? Same time, same place?"

She nodded, a small smile appearing spontaneously, as she got to her feet. "Thank you, Commander."

**************

Kathryn Janeway regretfully drained the last drop of coffee from the one cup she allowed herself each morning and looked across her desk at Chakotay. His dark eyes were twinkling. "Don't make fun of my coffee obsession. Now, you were going to give me a report on your counseling sessions?"

"Gerron seems to have made a full recovery. He was upset by Dishon's death, but I made it clear to him that it was his quick action in activating the manual controls that saved the lives of everyone else in the cargo bay. He's less defensive and has started making friends among the crew. He seems to be coming out of his shell."

"Speaking of shells?" Kathryn said wryly.

Chakotay followed her train of thought with the ease of practice. "Malista? I don't know that a shell is the appropriate metaphor. In my meetings with her over the last two weeks, she's opened up and talked quite a bit about her background. Some of what she's told me was unintentional. A better metaphor for her might be that she's a butterfly ripped from its cocoon before it was ready."

Janeway frowned her concern at the graphic mental image that evoked. "Can you tell me more? Without violating confidentiality?"

"I asked her permission to discuss this with you. I had to admit to her that we've just about reached the end of my counseling expertise. She agrees with me that a woman's point of view might be helpful and she knows you'll respect her privacy. She also okayed my talking with Tom."

"You have made some progress," Janeway commented.

"Not enough that she'll talk to you herself. I told her that I believe she's ready to return to duty, but there are some unique problems to deal with. She's afraid of men. She becomes anxious when alone with them and she's not sure how to deal with the way they look at her," Chakotay summarized.

"Those are things most girls learn to deal with in their adolescence," Janeway replied. "You think it's a result of what she went through on Huldon III?"

"Partly. The cocoon metaphor extends to her childhood. She was born on a colony planet in what is now the demilitarized zone between the Federation and Cardassian space. Like many of those colonies, Helios was settled by people of Greek descent who moved away from Earth and other mixed colonies in order to preserve their cultural heritage. There's still a strong patriarchal system and Malista was the youngest child and only daughter, so she had a very sheltered childhood. Two of her older brothers, Stephanos and Giorgio joined the Maquis shortly after the treaty was signed. They were both killed by the Cardassians when Malista was sixteen. Malista defied her father and joined the Maquis herself. She wasn't a warrior, but she was good at repairing equipment and computer systems. The Maquis always needed skilled technicians. We also used her for information gathering since she was skilled at getting people to talk to her," Chakotay explained.

"How did she cope in the Maquis? If she'd never been on her own?" the captain asked, leaning forward in her seat and resting her elbows on the desk. This was beginning to sound like a scientific problem or equation that needed solving and she found it fascinating.

Chakotay shrugged. "She seems to bring out protective instincts. Two others from her colony joined the Maquis at the same time---Jano Demetrios and Lanal Aristedes---they appointed themselves her guardians, included her in their Maquis cell. Until they were killed on Huldon III."

"Then Niko Dishon took over?" Janeway speculated. "He became her protector?"

The first officer nodded. "Exactly. Now, for the first time in her life, she has no one. No one to protect her. No one to keep other people away. She never learned to deal with people because she never had to before. Someone always did it for her."

Janeway shook her head and exhaled noisily. "And now? How is she coping? Is she using Tom?"

"No. There are several problems with that. First, he's a senior officer. He outranks her which gives her a protocol problem. Second, he's becoming---involved," Chakotay chose that word carefully, "with B'Elanna Torres. Malista wouldn't want to interfere in that relationship---especially since she helped get them together. Also Tom's schedule keeps him pretty busy. When he's not on duty or with B'Elanna, he's giving piloting lessons in the simulator. And third, she doesn't want to burden him with responsibility for her. She's tried that and found that it doesn't work on a long term basis. The problem now is that she doesn't have the social skills and people skills that, as you said, she should have developed naturally in adolescence."

Janeway winced with sympathy. "I wouldn't want to go through adolescence again for all the latinum in the Ferengi Treasury. So what do you think we should do about this situation? And to get back to one of your original points, what about her fear of men? Can she function on this ship when she's afraid of more than half the ship's complement?"

Chakotay rubbed his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on. "I told her she needed to give herself time. If we can gradually let her learn how to cope and slowly expand her circle of friends, I think she'll be fine. Tom Paris has helped her take the first step toward losing her fear of men. She's comfortable with him. I thought I should tell B'Elanna to be sure that Malista is paired with another female when she assigns repair teams."

"That's a short term solution, but it sounds good to me. If she's afraid, do you think it would help to have her take a self-defense course? Ensign Natwick is starting a new course next week. Some crew members are taking it for exercise and others are hoping to get certified or recertified for Security teams," Kathryn suggested.

"Kathryn, she worked in Security," Chakotay reminded her. "Tuvok must have thought she had the skills---or did he? Her assignment was to monitor and repair Security equipment during the night shift. I'll ask him about that. On my ship, I remember that she was trained in hand-to-hand combat---all of my crew received at least a minimum of training. It still might be a good idea for her to join the class just to give her a chance to socialize in a group activity. I'll sound her out about it at our next counseling session."

"Keep me advised on her progress, Commander." Janeway sighed deeply. "When I took command of Voyager, I never thought I would wind up dealing with these kinds of problems. I appreciate your efforts to help her. I know I've said it before, but I wish we had a trained counselor aboard."

"You can't wish it half as much as I do," Chakotay said.

*************

"Commander? Could I speak to you for a moment? At your convenience?"

Chakotay had to look twice to be sure the properly worded, formal request had come from Lieutenant Tom Paris. He raised his eyebrows as he noticed that Tom wasn't even smirking, which would have given his words a sarcastic edge. It was the end of Alpha shift and Paris had released the conn to his relief. The first officer got to his feet. "Of course, Lieutenant Paris. Let's find somewhere to talk."

The two entered the turbolift together still on their polite best behavior. The lift doors slid closed and the computer waited for an order to initiate its motion. Paris glanced at Chakotay. "Where should we go, Commander?"

"How private does this need to be, Lieutenant?" Chakotay answered just as formally.

A twinkle sparked in Paris' cornflower blue eyes. "I don't necessarily want to be alone with you, Commander. It's not that kind of conversation. We can go to the mess hall or Sandrine's as long as we get our own table. I want to talk to you about Malista."

"Deck 6," Chakotay said to the computer, then his brown eyes narrowed. He knew Paris couldn't go five minutes without wising off. "I've been meaning to talk to you, too, Paris."

"Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh?" Chakotay inquired.

"Uh-oh, when you start calling me Paris in that tone of voice, I've done or said something to make you snarky."

The first officer frowned. "Define 'snarky'."

"Respectfully decline to answer, Sir!" That answer was in his best Academy cadet form, spoiled only by Paris' grin.

The turbolift doors slid open and they walked down the corridor to Sandrine's. "Now why do I think you've said that quite a few times before," said Chakotay thoughtfully.

Paris nodded, graciously acknowledging the hit. "Because you know me, Commander?"

Chakotay smiled.

Paris signaled Sandrine who brought over their usual drinks as they settled at an empty table. Sandrine's wouldn't be busy for a few more hours. It was almost deserted except for the holocharacters. They had privacy for their talk.

"Did Malista---" Paris began.

"Do you think---" Chakotay said at the same time. They both stopped. "After you, Lieutenant."

Tom cleared his throat. His rehearsed speech didn't seem appropriate right now. Chakotay wasn't behaving as Paris had thought he would. He'd expected the first officer to be hard to deal with. Chakotay was being---almost friendly.

"Well, I know you've been meeting with Malista and I wanted to see if you think she's doing okay. I know it's confidential, but I---" He fumbled to a stop trying to think of arguments that would impress Chakotay with his need to know. "I care about her and I want to be sure she's okay," he finally muttered, trying to look nonchalant.

Chakotay wasn't buying it. He could tell from the older man's expression. Tom continued, "I want to know if there's anything I can do to help."

He'd be damned if he was going to beg the man for information. He'd told B'Elanna this wouldn't work, but she'd insisted he try asking Chakotay before attempting an end run around the first officer to the captain.

Chakotay calmly assessed Tom's defensiveness and acted to defuse it. "Tom, as far as confidentiality goes, I have her permission to discuss her situation with you. I understand you'd like to help her. The problem is if you try to help her now, you may do more harm than good."

Paris was relieved that the first officer wasn't telling him to mind his own business. "What do you mean? Are you saying I should keep my distance? I thought she needed friends more than ever right now."

"In a way, you're both the best and the worst person to be around her right now," Chakotay commented. "You don't have to answer, Tom, but let me ask you something personal. Why did you take the time to make a friend of Malista? No one else did. Everyone else pretty much ignored her."

Paris was about to make a smart, flip retort, but caught sight of Chakotay's intent brown eyes. The first officer was doing his best to help Malista Shadow. He deserved a serious answer.

Tom took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then said softly, "She looked so lonely. She was sitting at a table, here in Sandrine's, surrounded by other people, but it was like she was an island of loneliness. Have you ever read Thoreau, Chakotay?"

The first officer nodded.

"Do you remember---he said, 'We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our chambers.' That's what I saw. She was in the holodeck because she'd been ordered to socialize. But she didn't know how to make the first move. So she hid at a corner table and pretended no one else was here. Sort of like one of those birds they have at the zoo on Earth? The one that hides its head and thinks it can't be seen?"

"An ostrich," Chakotay said. "I know what you mean. The captain and I thought she was withdrawn because she didn't like other people. We didn't, at that time, know the extent of her emotional damage." The first officer studied Paris' face carefully as he added, "She said she responded to you---because you were lonely."

A spark of surprised recognition flashed into those bright blue eyes before it was quickly hidden behind the customary cool, derisive mask. "Yeah, right!"

In the past, Chakotay would have accepted the pilot's response at face value and irritably written him off as a smart-mouthed lightweight. He wasn't prepared to do that any more. "Paris---Tom, she meant it. Other people have tried to be friendly --- at least I know they did on the Maquis ship, B'Elanna among them,---but she never responded to them. She thought you needed her. And you evidently thought she needed you."

Paris dropped the smirk. "Yeah. Right." This time there was no hint of sarcasm, just an acknowledgment of accuracy. "B'Elanna mentioned that Malista needs to feel needed. I think we connected because we could help each other. And she's really smart! She reads a lot of classics and poetry and---" He paused, embarrassed as his sudden enthusiasm betrayed his feelings.

Chakotay was smiling, but it wasn't a patronizing smile---not this time. "She said the same thing about you. I didn't know you read poetry or the classics."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "You never asked," he said simply. "You think I'm some kind of moron aside from piloting?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

"No, I thought you were careless and arrogant. I know now there were a lot of questions I never asked. I just assumed. I'm sorry, Tom. I don't think I've been fair to you. Circumstances--- "

Tom couldn't believe this conversation. He'd never expected Chakotay to come right out and apologize to him. He would have settled for polite tolerance from the first officer---a step toward an offer of friendship hadn't been expected. He took the olive branch as he cut off Chakotay's attempt to explain.

"Circumstances led to misunderstandings, Chakotay. Don't worry about it. The past is the past. It can't be changed, but we can move on from here and change the future. I learned that in Delta Quadrant 101, as taught by Professor Kathryn Janeway."

The two men smiled at each other with mutual understanding.

"So what I should do about Malista?" Tom asked.

"Be her friend, but don't become her keeper. She needs to learn to take care of herself. She may make some mistakes, but she'll learn from them. It's the tough part of caring about someone---letting them learn some things the hard way. But that's another reason she let you get close---you let her make the decision. You didn't make it for her. She wants to be independent. She's struggling to become independent and adult in making her own decisions."

"Okay. But if there's anything she needs--- " Paris said.

"I'll keep you informed, Tom."

"Thanks, Chakotay. I'll keep you informed, too. You want to shoot a game of pool?"

"Why not? It's better than going to the mess hall and facing another of Neelix's meals."

***************

At the senior staff meeting the next morning, Captain Janeway looked up from the report to regard her chief engineer's frustrated frown. "Have you found the cause of the problem?"

Torres tossed her padd on the table. "Nothing. We continue to lose an average of five power couplings a day. They short out just like the one in the nav console that burned Tom's hand four weeks ago. There's just no reason. We haven't found any power surges."

"Are the parts themselves defective?" Harry asked.

"We scanned them. After they were damaged," Torres added thoughtfully. "Maybe if we scan the ones that haven't shorted, we could find a common flaw. I have teams working on this around the clock. When the power coupling blows, it takes several systems in its immediate circuit path with it. If it should happen in a crucial system at a critical time---I don't want to think about it," B'Elanna said, picking up the data padd once more.

"We've run out of the original stock of spare parts, haven't we?" Chakotay asked.

"Yes. So?" Torres didn't follow his line of thought.

"So if we're now using replicated replacements, maybe there's a problem with the replication process," the first officer said.

"That's possible," the captain said, nodding her agreement. "B'Elanna, look into that as well. Any other suggestions?"

Paris spoke up. "I think we ought to check out the healthy power couplings on the strategic systems on the bridge, just as a precaution."

It was a good idea. Janeway nodded. "B'Elanna, can you send a repair team to the bridge?"

"Yes, Captain. Right away. I'll also have a team inspect the critical sections of Engineering." Torres jumped to her feet, ready to sail back into battle with the recalcitrant power couplings.

The captain raised an amused eyebrow. "In that case, dismissed."

*************

"Captain," Tuvok said. "The long range sensors show an M class planet with inordinate quantities of tropical and semi-tropical vegetation."

"You mean like a jungle?" Lt. Paris said, swiveling to face the Security station.

"I believe that is what I said," Tuvok intoned.

Paris rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his board. Under his breath, he muttered, "Freakosaurus to the max." With superior Vulcan hearing, Tuvok was the only one who heard him, but he chose to ignore the comment as irrelevant.

"All right, Tuvok. Send the coordinates to Mr. Paris' station. Tom, lay in a course. Warp five. Commander, would you prepare for more detailed scans?"

Chakotay nodded and opened the console between their chairs. The repair team came onto the bridge. Susan Nicoletti started her maintenance check with Harry's station. Her partner headed for the helm controls and stood behind the pilot. "Excuse me, Lieutenant?" she said to Paris.

"Malista! What are you doing here?"

She frowned at him, holding up her tool kit. "Well, if the lieutenant at the conn position will kindly move his big feet, I'm here to check out the power couplings," she whispered, a smile lurking in her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am!" Tom stood and moved his chair out of the way so she could get under the console. He caught Chakotay's nod of approval toward Malista. She did seem to be doing well.

**************

The scans showed the planet was fertile and would provide plentiful supplies. There was a scattered population of pre-warp technology. Tuvok theorized that fruits and vegetables could be harvested without making contact with the populace which would violate the Prime Directive. Ten away teams were dispatched to gather what they could over the next five hours. Tricorders were issued for scanning the edible materials and to enable the teams to avoid the local inhabitants.

The away teams were dropped off in several locations more than ten miles from the nearest population center. Chakotay, Neelix, Tom Paris, and Harry Kim were the senior officers assigned to supervise the away mission. "Remember, everyone in teams of two or three. Keep your eyes on the lifeform readings. The scans showed some large animals, possibly predators. So stay alert," Chakotay ordered as the teams scattered to cover a larger amount of territory.

Malista Shadow had volunteered for the away team during her off duty time just to get off the ship for a while. She was assigned to Harry Kim's team and followed him and Ensign Powell as they headed through the trees to a clearing on the other side.

"Mr. Kim," Malista said, as she came upon a cluster of bushes with white, cylindrical, berry-like growths about an inch long. "The tricorder says these are edible." She wasn't sure she was reading the tricorder accurately and wanted him to check her readings.

Harry came closer, peering at the fruits intently. "That's strange." He plucked one off the bush and held it up to his own tricorder. He squashed the white blob between his fingers until they were stopped by a pit or seed in the center of the berry. He checked his readings again.

"What's strange about them? Aren't they berries?" Malista asked.

"They seem to be. Not poisonous. Should provide us with vitamin A," Kim said as he ran his own scan. He tasted the one he held. "Sweet. Soft texture. This is so weird."

"What?" Malista asked again, puzzled by his disbelieving smile.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think these were wild marshmallows!" He grinned at her.

"What's a marshmallow?" she asked, smiling at him tentatively. This was the most time she'd spent with the ensign apart from the time in Sandrine's with Tom and B'Elanna. She was surprised she wasn't more uncomfortable with him.

"That's hard to explain. A sweet food item manufactured mostly from air and sucrose. Tom introduced me to them. I think he got B'Elanna hooked on them. I wonder if these would be good for roasting on a campfire?" He grinned at Malista and indicated her sample bag. "Good eye, Crewman Shadow. See how many you can gather before we get the recall. Tom will love these. Powell seems to have found some tubers. I'll go check those out."

**************

Malista entered the holodeck with trepidation. She had consented to take Ensign Natwick's self-defense course, hoping it would help her deal with her fears. She was nervous, however, about participating in a large group activity. There were at least twenty people who'd signed up and they all seemed to be in the holodeck before her.

She took a deep breath and prayed that she wouldn't have to talk to anyone. She was uncomfortable in the required uniform for this activity. The training uniforms were skin tight. Every rounded curve and slender line of her body was displayed. She could feel eyes staring at her---with disapproval, she was sure. She wanted to hide. She took a deep, cleansing breath as Chakotay had taught her to do, and moved into the room. She found a space against the wall and leaned against it, waiting for the class to begin.

She covertly studied the others in the class. Mostly women. Diane Russell was here. What was the ship's librarian doing in a self-defense class? Well, what was she doing here herself? She didn't know anyone well enough to speak to. 'Well, of course not,' she thought. 'Who do I know? Captain Janeway? Chakotay? B'Elanna doesn't need to take this course. Tom is teaching a course. If I knew just one person, maybe this wouldn't be so bad.'

As if in answer to her request, the door slid open and Ensign Harry Kim walked in. He glanced casually around the holodeck. He almost didn't recognize Malista Shadow. She looked really good in that tight jumpsuit. She had legs that went on forever. He wondered why he'd never noticed her shapely figure before, then recalled that most of her civilian clothes were loose and shapeless.

He could tell by her demeanor that she was uncomfortable so, out of kindness, he made his way to her side. "Hi, Malista. I didn't expect to see you here. I signed up because I decided I need some exercise." He didn't have more time for conversation.

Ensign George Natwick, the course instructor, blew a whistle to garner his students' attention. He was a big man, at least six feet, four inches tall with not an ounce of fat on his muscular body. The students all gathered in the center of the holodeck, standing on the mats that would hopefully cushion their falls.

Malista lingered at the back of the crowd, as usual, trying to go unnoticed. Harry Kim's protective instincts kicked in and he stayed at her side.

The first thing Natwick did was pair off the students so they could practice together. As he approached, his eyes lingered appreciatively on Malista. "Crewman Shadow? Kind of a waste of height hanging around with Kim, isn't it? Those of us over six feet should stick together."

She looked away from him without replying and shrank behind Harry Kim. Her reaction seemed to amuse the man. With a sneer, he said, "Well, Ensign, how about we pair you two off? She's got about two inches in height on you, but you should have more upper body strength. Think it's a fair deal?" His eyes moved up and down, making an issue of Kim's shorter stature since Harry was almost five inches shorter than Natwick.

Kim's eyes hardened. His grim expression was not familiar to most of the crew of Voyager, but it would have looked very familiar to Tom Paris, or the prisoners in the Akritirian prison. "You want to get on with the lesson, Natwick?"

Natwick smiled contemptuously and moved on to the next pair.

**************

"So how was the self-defense class?" Tom asked casually, as he speared a piece of his fruit salad on his fork.

Harry scowled down at his plate. "That Natwick is such a---jerk!"

Tom smiled mockingly. "Tell me something I don't know. What particular jerk-like thing did he do now?"

B'Elanna rushed in, snagged a salad and joined them breathlessly before Harry could reply. "What did I miss?"

"Not much," Paris replied, smiling at her with genuine affection. It softened and transformed his face. Seeing B'Elanna had that affect on him lately. "Harry was just telling me about Natwick's latest jerk-like behavior."

"Oh, him!" Torres said scornfully, her frown revealed her opinion of the big ensign. She took a bite of her salad and looked at Harry expectantly.

"So what did he do to arouse your ire?" Paris inquired. The more reluctant Harry was to speak, the more determined the pilot became that he should.

Harry frowned at his friends. "If you want to know the truth, I didn't like the way he was looking at Malista Shadow."

The smile dropped from Tom's face. "How was he looking at her?"

"Down, boy," Torres said, patting his arm. "I can tell you that."

"You weren't even there," Harry protested.

"No, but I know our boy Natwick. He likes to undress women with his eyes," Torres said. "It's his way of getting a woman's attention."

Paris glowered at her. "How do you know? Did he do that to you?"

"Only once," the chief engineer responded tartly. "If he'd done it more than once, I'd have handed him his lung. Let's just say, we had a little talk."

"I'll bet," the pilot said with an admiring smile. "Did you break his nose?"

She looked at him indignantly. "Of course not. Captain Janeway told me I had to learn more diplomatic ways to resolve conflicts once I became Chief Engineer."

"So you diplomatically threatened his life?" Paris teased.

She looked at him superciliously. "As a matter of fact, yes. And told him to stay the hell out of Engineering unless he was there on business. For some reason, he avoids me now. Personally, I think he likes to test people's limits." She turned her attention back to Harry. "But the question is, how did Malista handle it?"

"She didn't," Harry replied. "She didn't say anything. She just tried to disappear. She was sort of hiding behind me. He made us partners for the class and made a snotty remark about her being taller than me. I think that upset her, too."

"Maybe I should pay a visit to our friend, Mr. Natwick," Tom said with a deceptively sweet smile. His blue eyes were ice cold flames of anger. He despised bullies and Natwick had a reputation for bullying his students. The only thing the man respected was strength.

"Tom. This is what Chakotay meant when he said you shouldn't help her too much," B'Elanna commented. She took his hand in hers and stroked it rhythmically, trying to soothe him. "She has to learn to deal with this kind of thing herself. If you go after Natwick, you'll get yourself in trouble. He hasn't really done anything. If you like, I could have a woman to woman talk with her. Tell her how to handle sexual harassment or lewd remarks."

"Nobody should be making lewd remarks," Paris said indignantly. "Especially not to my kid sister!"

"And how are you going to stop them? Fight every man on the ship? That's what Niko Dishon tried---until he decided it was easier to let her hide in her quarters. If she's going to be a woman and not a child, she has to learn to deal with this kind of thing herself. She can't come crying to you every time a man looks at her cross-eyed. With her looks, she'd better get used to being ogled," Torres said.

"One other thing," Kim added, "Malista has the defensive moves down pat. She's good, but she's not aggressive enough. I mean, even in practice. She wouldn't come at me. She seemed to be afraid she'd hurt me. When I attacked her, it was the same thing. She hardly fought back. She pulled her punches and kicks. Maybe Natwick was right. Maybe my height is an issue with her."

"Nitwit Natwick right about anything? I doubt it." Torres finished the last bite of her salad and got to her feet.

Tom stood next to her. He'd lost his appetite. He wanted to discuss this with Chakotay to get his opinion as Malista's counselor. Pausing, Tom eyed Harry quizzically. "One thing I don't get, Harry. What has your height got to do with anything?"

Harry felt himself flushing. "Oh, all during the lesson, Natwick kept making a point that she was taller than me. And taking little digs. He was careful not to say anything I could call him on, though."

"Is she taller?" Tom hadn't thought about it.

"She's about two inches taller."

B'Elanna thought it was interesting he was aware of that. "So she's taller? So what?"

Harry spelled it out for her. "He was implying that we were---romantically involved. He thought it was funny, that's all. A tall woman and a shorter man."

Paris grinned at his friend sympathetically. "I don't think it's funny. What difference does height make?"

B'Elanna's eyes were sparkling with mischief. "Let me tell you something from personal experience, Harry. I've found that tall people willingly bend for shorter people---if you give them sufficient motivation." She reached up and snagged Paris' collar and pulled gently. He eagerly bent his head down for her kiss.

The crew members at the other tables hooted and cheered. Paris' face and ears reddened at the attention, but he was thoroughly enjoying himself. B'Elanna broke away from him and blew a kiss to the spectators before dashing out of the mess hall as quickly as she'd come in.

Paris grinned after her. "What a woman!"

Harry shook his head, grinning at his tall friend. "I think you're both crazy." While happy for his friends, deep down he felt a little envious. He stifled a sigh.

****************

Shore leave requests had been granted as soon as they were in orbit around Dynos Six. Half the Voyager crew was now wandering through the capital city's market place. B'Elanna had left the chore of repairing the sensor array to her trusty right hand, Lt. Joe Carey. She needed this shore leave, even more than she needed to supervise the repairs. The sensors weren't that critical while the ship was in orbit.

Tom Paris, Harry Kim, B'Elanna Torres, and Malista Shadow were exploring the community. Trust Tom Paris to promptly find the local drinking and gambling establishment. He wasn't the first. At least ten other Voyager crew members were sampling the local cuisine---and the local stimulant beverage, which was not synthehol. The Delaney twins had bought a case of it and were having it carried out to the transport site. Torres commandeered an empty table.

There was a faintly disreputable air to the tavern, its occupants busily playing games of chance involving heavy wagering and loudly discussing their bets. They ignored the newcomers. Evidently this city was a major trading post in the area so they were accustomed to seeing new species of humanoids.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Harry asked, eyeing his surroundings dubiously. There was a smoke-like substance in the air that gave a sickly-sweet smell to the place that made him feel slightly nauseated.

"Sure," Tom said, bringing four drinks and setting them on the table.

Shadow lifted her glass, and sniffed gingerly at the contents. "What is this stuff, Tom?"

He grinned carelessly at her. "It's blue." He took a sip, shuddered, blinked, then stared at the glass. "Tastes sort of like---creme de menthe." He crossed his eyes and shook his head. "Kind of sweet. Strong, too." He stuck out his tongue and peered at it with crossed eyes. His tongue was turning blue.

"Are you okay?" Torres asked, wishing she had a tricorder to check the contents of the glasses.

Paris stopped kidding around and cleared his throat noisily. "This stuff---is really strong," he wheezed. "Or maybe I've just been drinking synthehol for too long."

The others left their glasses untouched. A sudden burst of noise from the other side of the room caught Tom's attention. Several locals seemed to be having an argument. It was getting louder and gestures were being exchanged.

"Harry, have you ever been in a bar fight?" Tom asked conversationally.

"No, why?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Because if we don't get out of here---quickly---you're going to be in one," Torres replied.

"We haven't done anything," Harry said, getting to his feet nonetheless. He trusted Tom's instinct for trouble. It seemed to follow wherever he went.

"In a bar fight, that doesn't matter. Once it starts, everyone's involved," Paris remarked, shepherding his friends and as many Voyager crewmen as he could gather out the door. They didn't quite make it.

They were nearly to the exit when the argument erupted into violence. Kicks, punches, bottles, and furniture were thrown across and around the room at random targets. Three of the Voyager crew were knocked to the floor when four locals stumbled back into them as they exchanged punches.

Paris couldn't abandon his crewmates. He was the senior officer present. The captain would never forgive him. "Harry! Get Malista and B'Elanna out of here!" He dived back into the fray.

Harry pushed Malista out the door and looked for B'Elanna. Too late. She'd plunged into the thick of battle and latched onto the arm of the man who was trying to bash Tom on the back of the head with a bottle.

As Kim and Shadow went out the door, a drunk bumped into them in his rush to escape the melee, almost knocking them both to the ground. Sirens and whistles were sounding, drawing nearer. The local authorities would be here any moment.

Harry was torn. He had to protect Malista, but he wanted to go back for Tom and B'Elanna. He slapped at his commbadge to report the situation. It wasn't there! He darted a glance at Malista. Hers was gone as well. That drunk! He was a thief.

Malista was trembling with shock and fear. Was that blood on her forehead? "Malista! What happened?"

Her hand went to her head and she studied the blood on her fingers. "A bottle, I think. What are we going to do, Harry?" She was totally at a loss. She'd never been in a situation like this.

She was injured. He had to get her safely out of this mess. It was up to Paris or Torres to signal for their own beam-out. "Come on," he said, grabbing her hand and towing her behind him. "We're getting out of town and staying out of sight till this blows over. I don't like to hang around civil disturbances after what happened on Akritiria."

She followed him obediently, her expression slightly dazed. They passed a small house near the edge of town where the laundry was being air-dried on wires. The temperature was dropping. The ship's sensors might not be able to locate them for hours if they hadn't been repaired. Kim snagged a blanket off the clothesline and took it with them. He made for the foothills of the mountain range less than a kilometer out of town.

They found a mountainside with an overhanging cliff that would provide some shelter from the elements. He seated Malista against the wall formed by the mountain. The sun was setting rapidly and the air was growing chilly. He gathered some wood and leaves to start a fire. Luckily there was enough sun left that he could use a lens to start a spark. Now if he just had a lens. He didn't realize he'd spoken aloud till his companion spoke.

"How about a match?" She held up a small book of matches.

"Where did you get that?" he asked curiously, taking it from her hand.

"The bar---they had them on the tables. I was fiddling with them. I guess I just forgot to put them down." She rubbed her head. The bleeding had stopped. It was barely a trickle. The bottle must have just grazed her head.

Harry got the fire going then inspected her forehead, taking care not to take her by surprise. "I don't think it's serious. You don't even have a bump. Yet."

"Serious enough to give me a headache. Ouch." She groaned.

"Without our commbadges or the sensors, Voyager can't locate us. The sensors were going to take several hours to repair---oh, you know that. You work in Maintenance. You wait here. I'm going to see if I can find some more wood for the fire. We may be here a while. But they'll be looking for us as soon as they can," Harry said, trying to reassure her.

Her eyes were closed. She seemed to be asleep. Or pretending to be asleep.

He left quietly to look for more wood, hoping Voyager could find them soon. He knew she was comfortable with Tom, but he didn't know how she would react to being stranded alone with him.

*************

Harry Kim tugged at the collar of his uniform as he studied the dark night sky. "Malista, it's going to get awfully cold here in the next few hours. We only have one blanket." He stopped there to see if she would make the inference and save him having to spell it out.

She didn't. Her green eyes stared at him dully, almost without recognition.

"We need to conserve body heat if we want to avoid tissue damage." There. That was as innocuously as he could phrase it.

She shook her head slowly from side to side. "No."

He wasn't absolutely sure she'd understood what he'd said. He knelt next to her, carefully out of reach so she wouldn't feel he was dangerous. "Malista, I know you don't like to be touched, but I'm talking about sleeping under the same blanket for health reasons. To stay warm. Nothing else. I promise. You know me. I'm Tom's friend. I'm your friend. I wouldn't hurt you."

She rubbed her forehead with one hand. "My head hurts," She moaned, like a tired child.

"I know. I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about it. Why don't you lie down first? I'll cover you with the blanket and build up the fire as much as possible. Then I'll get under the blanket and we'll go to sleep. Tomorrow, Voyager will locate us and beam us aboard and we'll get you to Sickbay so the doctor can treat you." Harry spoke soothingly. She did as he asked. He made her as comfortable as possible, then stacked more wood near the fire.

He probably wouldn't get much sleep tonight. He'd be adding wood to the fire every few hours. The indications were that the weather might get down to freezing. At least they were partly sheltered by the overhanging cliff. With the mountain on one side and the fire on the other, they should be able to stay relatively warm. He stacked the pieces of wood within easy reach, then raised the side of the blanket.

Her eyes were closed and she didn't react as he slid down on the ground next to her. He tucked the blanket around them both, carefully refraining from touching her or drawing her attention to the situation.

He turned on his side, facing away from her so they were back to back. It wasn't as warm as it could have been, but it was better than sitting in the night air without a blanket. The exhausting pace they'd set that day was catching up with him. He pillowed his head on his forearm and drew a deep breath. Before he could remember taking another, he was sound asleep himself.

It might have been two hours later when Harry awoke. The fire had burned down almost to embers, but the cold wasn't what awakened him. It was the warmth. Sometime as they slept, he had turned to face the same direction as Malista and they

had both moved closer to the center of the blanket.

They were sleeping spooned together, Harry's arm draped over and clutching her waist, his hand cupping her breast, her bottom cradled by his legs. It was unfortunate that his body didn't recognize the situation or the person involved. All his body knew was that it was reacting to stimuli in a natural manner.

Harry knew this was---not good. He lifted his hand and arm off of her body and tried to ease his hips back away from Malista without waking her. He knew he'd failed when she suddenly went rigid. She was awake---and aware.

He froze, glad she wasn't screaming. "Malista, it's okay. I'm sorry. Just ignore---" What a stupid thing to say! "I'm sorry. Listen, I'll just turn over---"

Before he could finish what he was saying, she had pulled away from him and surged to her feet. She ran to the other side of the fire and stood there staring at him as if he'd grown fangs. Her eyes were blank, as if she wasn't completely awake and aware of his identity. She was beginning to shake as her body rapidly cooled in the chilly night air.

He got to his knees, holding the blanket in front of him as an offering. "Malista, you're going to freeze. Here, take the blanket."

It was all he could think to say. His apologies had only seemed to make things worse. Between the cold air and her panic reaction, his body rapidly lost interest, so his mind was clearing. He was afraid she'd run away. Or worse, try to hurt him or herself.

"Why didn't the Academy give some practical lessons on dealing with this kind of thing? Lesson 1001, How to Share a Bed Platonically with a Member of the Opposite Sex," he muttered, hardly aware he spoke aloud till he saw her eyes round in amazement.

"What did you say?" She asked, her eyes clearly focused on him now. She seemed to recognize him and the fear was quickly fading from her expression and posture. She couldn't believe what she thought she'd heard. It wasn't anything like what she'd expected him to say. It threw her off balance and sharpened her concentration on his words.

He gave her a rueful half smile, feeling the blood rushing to his face. "I'm sorry, Malista. The Academy didn't cover this situation in the wilderness survival course. Really, I wasn't going to---I was asleep! Can a man be held accountable for what his body does when he's asleep?" He tentatively smiled, trying a joke to ease the tension. It was a lesson he'd learned from Tom Paris.

If he'd moved toward her, she probably would have run screaming into the night. His quiet, apologetic manner, and that touch of humor comforted her. He hadn't turned into a vicious stranger---he was still Harry Kim, Tom Paris' best friend. Tom trusted him. She could trust him too. He wouldn't hurt her.

"Maybe," she croaked hoarsely, still tired and feeling even more exhausted as the adrenaline rush caused by fear wore off. She cleared her throat and tried again, tentatively. "Maybe we should sleep sitting up?" She came back around to the sheltered side of the fire. Her teeth were chattering.

Harry stood and warily wrapped the blanket around her, making sure she had a clear view of him so he wouldn't catch her by surprise. "That's a good idea. Come sit with your back against the mountain and I'll build the fire back up."

He was shivering himself by the time he'd refueled the fire with sticks. He turned his head so he could see her with his peripheral vision. She was watching him. When she caught his eye, she held up the corner of the blanket in invitation.

He hesitated.

"Ensign Kim---Harry," she amended. "I'm sorry. I overreacted. Please, come sit with me. You were right before. We do need to share---body heat."

He wished she hadn't said that. The mental image he got was not conducive to a platonic cuddle under the blanket. Cautioning himself to think of cold showers or something similar, he eased himself down on the ground beside her, scooting sideways under the blanket until their sides barely touched. She tossed half the blanket over him.

They sat there for a few minutes, stiffly, with his left arm and leg pressing lightly against her right side. Warmth seeped into their bodies from every point of contact. It wasn't enough. They needed to be closer. A shiver ran through her body. Harry silently prayed for wisdom and the right words. "Malista, if I put my arm around you, we could---uh------"

"Okay." She leaned forward a little. He slipped his left arm around her shoulders and cautiously turned her body toward him, pulling her tighter to his side. She slowly lowered her head to rest on his shoulder, curling her long legs up next to his outstretched legs. She scooted her right arm around his back and held him to her as their shivering slowly subsided.

Malista didn't seem to know what to do with her left hand. She caught the edge of the blanket and drew it up over them more securely, then cautiously rested her hand on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat under her palm. It felt so---reassuring. She could count the beats. She spread her fingers to increase the contact. She closed her eyes.

Harry gulped. That was easier than he'd expected. At last, he was warm again. He was glad she wasn't afraid of him. At least, he thought he was glad. He was beginning to think she thought of him as a teddy bear.

'Cute little Harry,' he thought disgustedly. 'Oh, no, he's not dangerous. A safe date. But if she calls me cute, I may have to hit her. Yeah, right, Harry. You couldn't hit a woman. Especially not this woman. She's suffered enough for a lifetime. And she's only---how old is she? Twenty-four? Never ask a woman her age. But still, she better not call me cute. I hate cute! It took me six months to convince Libby not to call me cute.'

His mental monologue was completely driven out of his head as Malista threw her left leg over his thighs. Her right leg pressed up against the side of his legs and hip. "Aren't your legs cold?" she mumbled into his chest. "They felt cold. Is this helping?"

"Oh, yeah, that's better," Harry choked, trying to mentally recite the Operations Stations command routes in order of importance. Anything to help him forget that he was surrounded by a warm, willing woman---no, not willing. Trusting. She trusted him not to---act on his instincts.

Oh, wow, had she gotten prettier in the last few days? When he'd first seen her picture, he'd thought she was plain. He didn't remember her being this attractive when he first met her either. She didn't seem so tall, curled around his body as she was now.

"Harry?" She was puzzled by his silence and tilted her head up to gaze at his face, just inches from her own.

He glanced down at her and found his dark eyes locked onto her green ones. She had beautiful eyes---cat-like eyes. Mysterious eyes. Almost slanted. Her lashes were so long and curly. Her cheekbones were high and her lips pink and moist. Her skin looked so soft, so---kissable---so touchable---*No!* No, no, no! No touching!

"Yes, Malista?" His voice cracked as he spoke her name. He couldn't believe it! That hadn't happened since he was fifteen.

"Harry, are you all right?" she asked, concern touching her expression and her voice.

"Oh, yeah," he muttered, bringing his free hand up to wipe his brow. Beads of sweat were forming, in defiance of the cold air around them. She was tensing up. He had to stop acting like a randy teenager or he'd scare her again. 'Get your mind back above your waist, Harry,' he told himself.

"I'm fine, Malista. Are you okay?" Tom would kill him if he scared her back into her shell. If B'Elanna didn't kill him first.

"You don't seem all right," she commented. "If I'm making you feel uncomfortable, I can move back--- " She started to pull away.

He held onto her. "No! It's okay. Don't move." Her every movement seemed to intensify his awareness of her and his desire for her and to stimulate---his imagination.

She froze. She peered up at his face, curiously. "Why?"

He cast his eyes heavenward. "Why me, Lord?" he called plaintively. "Is this some kind of trial? Is this a test?"

"Harry, you're acting really weird," Malista commented cautiously, not sure what he was upset about and not wanting to make it worse.

"We're Starfleet officers. Weird is part of the job," Harry quoted. He made the mistake of looking at her face. His eyes became ensnared in hers again.

"Harry, what's going on? Did you hit your head, too?" Her eyes were innocent. So innocent. Harry had never met a girl above the age of ten with eyes that innocent. He felt like a total heel. She really didn't realize the affect she had on him.

Maybe he should warn her. If she behaved this way with anyone else, she might be in big trouble. Of course, she wouldn't behave this way, this trustingly with anyone else.

'Trust. That's the key word here, Harry,' he thought. 'She trusts you because---why? Why?! Because she doesn't *know* any better! That's why! If she could read your mind right now, she'd know you're half a step from a *sex fiend*! She'd scream blue murder! Stop looking at her lips, stupid! You'll kiss her if you don't stop looking right now! Who knows what that might lead to? Don't think about it, idiot! You're making it worse!'

He licked his dry lips and tore his gaze away from her to stare at the fire. He tried not to breathe too deeply. The scent of her perfume or body lotion or whatever

it was---oh, that sweet, spicy scent was driving him slowly insane! 'Body lotion? Oh, the image that conjured---! Stop it! Stop it right *now*!' he mentally yelled at himself.

She'd felt so relaxed, but now Harry was---she didn't know what he was. She wanted to identify the problem. She and Harry needed to be friends, to keep Tom and B'Elanna happy, if for no other reason. She didn't want her silly reaction earlier to cause trouble between them. Maybe he was angry because she'd been afraid of him?

'Duh, Malista,' she thought, 'Any man would resent someone being afraid of him for no reason. It's an insult.'

She tried again, "Harry? Tell me what's wrong. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or make you uncomfortable."

'Oh, Kahless, now she's apologizing to me?' Harry thought, borrowing an epithet from Torres.

"Malista, I know you don't have a lot of experience---with men, I mean." His words screeched to a halt as he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the fire, trying to sense her reaction by the feel of her in his arms. "I don't want to scare you---but being close to you is---causing---a reaction---a physical reaction. It would help me a lot if you'd stay---really---really---still."

Her eyes widened with astonishment, she pulled her head back so she could study his face carefully. "You mean you---I thought earlier it was because you were asleep?"

"What?" He had to see her face. He couldn't understand what she meant. He tore his gaze from the fire to study her expression.

"I mean, you're awake now. You know who I am," she added.

His brow furrowed. "What has that got to do with it?"

"Well, you're not attracted to me," she explained simply as if that were the most obvious notion in the universe.

He snorted in disbelief. "What gave you that idea?" He felt her start of surprise. "You're an attractive---no, a lovely woman. Why wouldn't I be attracted to you?"

"You don't even like me!" she exclaimed. "How could you be---how could you want---" She broke off in confusion, her stare demanding an explanation. Her confusion only deepened when Harry laughed.

"I thought I was the most naive person on Voyager," Harry said, chuckling. "But I think you just stole my title." He tried to wipe the smile off his face and answer a serious question seriously, but her innocent assumption amused him. "Malista, liking someone has nothing to do with wanting someone. Well, no, I take that back. I mean you can like someone without wanting them---or you can sometimes want someone without liking them very much. It can be just a physical---oh, murder! I can't believe I'm having this conversation. Didn't your mother tell you anything!?"

"My mother died when I was nine," she replied solemnly. "I'm sorry, Harry. I know you must think I'm stupid. I never was interested in anyone---not enough to want to---you know---before I joined the Maquis. Then after Huldon III, I didn't want anyone near me. I don't know much about men. Or sex. I never asked before, because I didn't think---"

"What?" He smiled at her with gentle concern. Maybe she felt comfortable asking him because they were both too tired to feel inhibited. Maybe it was because they were alone and likely to be alone for several hours so there was no chance of being overheard or interrupted.

'Harry Kim, Sex Education Instructor?' he thought. 'Now that's a laugh riot. But, why not?' Somebody needed to answer her questions and he was the only one available right now.

"I didn't think I'd ever need to know. I mean, I didn't think it was going to come up," she said, gazing at the fire. She put her head back down on his shoulder.

He unconsciously began stroking her back with his right hand in a gesture of comfort. "It's okay, Malista. I've been asking questions since I boarded Voyager. Maybe it's my turn to answer a few. You can ask whatever you want. I'll do my best to answer you, but honestly, I have limited experience myself."

He felt her smile against his chest. "Thank you, Harry---Now I can't think of anything to ask." She was trying not to laugh. Without thinking, she was tracing random patterns on the ensign's chest with her index finger as if doodling with a pen or stylus.

It tickled---but it was also---stimulating. He smiled. "Well, how about if we go back a few subjects?"

"Mmm?"

"What in the world made you think I don't like you?"

She shrugged and declined to answer.

"Malista? I do like you. I think you're pretty. You're intelligent. You have a good sense of humor. You're attractive---"

"What does that mean? To a man? Attractive?"

"Whew! You can ask some hard questions. It means different things to different people. You've heard the expression 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder'. What attractive is---well, it changes from person to person. It's subjective. As for what it means when a man says you're attractive---it usually means he's physically attracted to you. He would like to get to know you better. Maybe more than that. It depends on the context," Harry stated, hoping his fumbling explanations wouldn't confuse her. He'd never thought much about this topic, much less had to put it into words for someone who knew less than he did.

"What does it mean to you?" she whispered. "Am I really attractive? To you? No, don't answer that!" Unconsciously her arms tightened around him, as if she was afraid to hear his answer. Afraid it would be yes? Or afraid it would be no?

Harry's hand cupped her chin and tilted her face up to his. "I have a hard time understanding why you don't think you're attractive. Don't you have a mirror? To answer the question, yes. You are attractive to me. Very attractive---to me." His thumb traced the line of her cheekbone. Her skin was soft. And smooth and--- warm---and---

"You don't look at me the way the other men do," she commented, her bewilderment easily read in those green eyes.

His dark eyes narrowed. "What other men?" She tried to pull away from his hold, but he refused to let her retreat. "What other men?" he repeated.

"Ensign Natwick. Some of the men I work with. Men I see in the corridors of the ship or in the mess hall. Especially when I'm alone."

He let go of her chin and she let her head sink back down onto his shoulder. "How do they look at you?" Harry felt a need to know. A green-eyed imp of jealousy was at his shoulder, egging him on. He told himself he only wanted her point of view. He'd seen how some of the men in question reacted to her, but he didn't know if she understood or perceived their interest the way he did.

She shuddered. "I don't know. I feel their eyes and it's like---I don't know how to describe it."

"How does it make you feel?"

"Dirty." She bit her lower lip. "The way they look at me, makes me feel dirty or like---they're touching me. I just want to get away from them. Quickly."

"Have they touched you?" His tone was harsh, but she could sense the anger in his voice was not directed toward her, but towards the men. He wasn't sure himself why the thought of other men bothering her should disturb him so much.

She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, trying to calm him. "No, of course not," she said. "They just look." She shuddered again as she got a mental picture of them. "Sometimes I think they say things about me, but never loud enough for me to hear."

"And how do I look at you? You said I was different," Harry coaxed.

"I don't know if I should answer that," she teased shyly.

"Come on, Malista. That's not fair. You brought it up. I've never seen the way I look at a woman I'm attracted to. I don't know what I look like. Tell me."

She smiled drowsily and turned her face into the curve of his neck. "Let's just say that when you look at me, you see all of me---including my face. I think those other guys don't know I have a face at all."

Her warm breath stirred against his skin, sending chills down his spine and a wave of heat shooting through his body. "They're idiots," he rasped, inhaling the vanilla scent of her shampoo. He rubbed his cheek against her hair, enjoying its silky texture.

"You're a nice man," she murmured sleepily. Her hand left his chest and moved up to stroke his cheek affectionately.

'Nice?! That's almost as bad as cute!' he thought disgustedly.

Aloud he said, "Thanks, I try." He secured her questing hand in his and turned it toward his face. He kissed her palm.

She suddenly stilled. He wasn't sure she was even breathing. He wasn't sure he was---as he waited for her reaction.

"Harry?" It was a breathless whisper.

"Yes?" He rubbed his thumb along the base of her hand.

"Would you do me a favor?" She sounded uncertain, her voice wavering slightly.

"Sure. What can I do for you?" He hoped he sounded cool and in control.

"Could you do that again?" He had to strain to hear her murmur.

He grinned. "Sure." He kissed her palm again, this time letting the tip of his tongue caress it lightly.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Oh, my!"

"You like that?" Harry's grin was so wide now it could be heard in his voice.

"It makes me feel---all shivery---but not cold," she gasped. "Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes. Would you---like to try something else?" Kim said tentatively.

She still refused to meet his eyes. "Like what?"

"Like---maybe kissing?" he suggested quietly. He waited for her response.

She shrugged, trying to sound indifferent as she replied, "I don't know. I've never tried it."

"Never?" He tried to keep his astonishment from showing, but wasn't entirely successful.

"Well, I kissed my father and brothers. On the cheek or forehead."

"Didn't you ever kiss Tom?" Another green-eyed imp prompted that question. It had to be answered. He'd wondered about her relationship with the tall, good-looking heartthrob of Voyager. He couldn't believe she wouldn't fall for Paris. Almost every other woman on the ship had been interested in him at some time or another.

"Ewww! No, that would be like kissing my brother!" Her exclamation had the ring of honesty.

Harry Kim instantly felt a whole lot better. "So, would you like to try it?"

"You don't mind giving me lessons?" she asked hopefully as she blinked up at him. "I'm so tired of being afraid---of touching, of kissing---of men. If you don't want to, it's okay. I'll understand. But if you wouldn't mind, would you please kiss me? At least once? So I can see what it's like?"

Harry made an effort and refrained from rolling his eyes or yelling 'Yes!' She might misinterpret either of those responses. Talk about putting temptation in a guy's path! 'Doesn't she realize what she's inviting? No, she doesn't,' he reminded himself.

"Of course, I don't mind. Kissing me---it won't be like kissing your brother?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't think so." Though she didn't say it aloud, her eyes revealed that she found him attractive. She wanted this. With him. Not Tom Paris. Not because he was the man who happened to be marooned here with her. She wanted Harry Kim. Whether she understood that herself or not.

'Though she won't know what to do with me once she has me,' he told himself. 'Go slow, Harry. She doesn't need another trauma to deal with.'

With his left arm he pulled her toward him, lifting and turning her so she was sitting on his lap, leaning against his chest and shoulder. He cupped her jaw with his right hand. She was blushing like mad. He could feel the heat, even though it was too dark to see her color change. He tipped her face toward his and brought their lips together.

She wasn't lying about her inexperience. She pursed her lips like a child. He brushed her lips with his, gently coaxing them apart. He nibbled at her lower lip.

She sighed her contentment and pleasure into his mouth, and relaxed her body into his. She smiled, a genuine full smile that warmed Harry to the soles of his feet. He leaned toward her again. He brushed tiny kisses up the column of her neck, stopping for a few lingering kisses against the pulse in her throat. She leaned her head back to ease his access. She was almost purring.

He moved back toward her mouth. This time her lips parted. She was a quick study. She mimicked his every move. She nipped at the tiny mole just above his upper lip, sucking lightly on it. Her arms crept up around his neck, pulling him closer. Her fingers threaded into the thick hair at his nape. Her breasts were crushed to his chest. She enjoyed the sensation and moved, instinctively rubbing against him as he deepened the kiss. Her response took Harry's breath away. He kissed her again. And again.

This was moving too fast! Breathing hard, he drew back and studied her expression. "Malista?"

She opened her eyes and smiled at him dreamily. "Yes, Harry?" It was almost a purr.

"Nothing." He smiled back at her. She pulled his head towards hers again. Just before their lips met, he heard the clatter of rock hitting rock. Like a flash, he set her on the ground beside him and was on his feet moving toward the approaching sound, putting himself between her and the advancing intruder.

Malista sat there for an instant, stunned by the sudden change, then scrambled to her feet, wrapping the blanket around her. She watched bewilderedly as Harry Kim moved away from her.

"Harry?" It was Tom Paris. He was coming out of the darkness, his path lit by the beacon he wore on his wrist. "Are you and Malista okay?"

"Sure. How did you find us?" Kim asked. "We lost our commbadges in the scuffle."

"I know. We beamed them back to the ship. Along with one of the local bums. The captain is a little bit irked about that." He didn't mention how anxious he'd been since losing sight of his friends.

"How did you find us?" Malista asked, coming to stand behind Ensign Kim.

"Your campfire. The sensor array is online again. Tuvok knew it would be cold, so he started scanning for human life signs near outdoor fires. We didn't figure you'd take shelter with the locals." Tom was staring at Malista in the dim light of the fire and the torches. There was something different about her. He thought Harry seemed a little nervous. Both of them seemed nervous.

Tom suddenly had a flash of insight. Malista was standing very close behind Harry. He wondered if something had been going on, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it occurred. Not with these two. Boy Scout Harry and Touch Me Not Shadow? There couldn't be a more unlikely couple---of course, that's what people had said about Tom and B'Elanna.

"Well, let me put out this fire and we can beam up," the ensign said, uneasily aware of Tom's scrutiny. He moved away from Malista without a glance in her direction.

"Where did you get the blanket?" Paris asked curiously.

"Uh, I stole it off a clothesline on the way out of town," Harry confessed, stirring the ashes of the fire to be sure every spark was out.

Paris grinned at him. "Harry, Harry, Harry! I can't take you anywhere. Better leave the evidence here." He took off his jacket. "Malista, take this!" Paris took the blanket and dropped it to the ground then wrapped his jacket around Malista. He enfolded her in his arms to warm her against the chill of the early morning air. She was watching Kim, but he didn't look at her. Tom waited till Kim had thoroughly put out his campfire, then slapped his commbadge. "Paris to Voyager. Three to beam up."

*************

When they materialized in the brightly lit transporter room, Paris got a better look at his friends. Harry was unusually quiet, but had no visible injuries, Tom noted. "Are you okay, Harry?" Harry nodded. Paris turned toward Shadow. "Malista! Is that blood?" He reached out to touch the trickle of dried red on her forehead and matting her hair.

"It's not that bad," she snapped. She evaded his hand and stepped out of reach. She glanced at Harry once more. He was standing as far from her as possible. When he said nothing and refused to meet her eyes, she looked back at Paris. "I'm going to my quarters. Thanks for the rescue." She slipped off his jacket and handed it back to him.

"Go to Sickbay and have your head examined, anyway," he told Malista.

"I'm not the one who *needs* my head examined!" She pushed past him to get to the exit, giving him an exasperated glare.

Paris spun on his heel and followed her. "Harry," he called back over his shoulder. "The captain wants to see you in her ready room before you report for duty in the morning. Malista! Wait up!"

Harry sighed and exchanged a tired glance with the transporter operator. He trudged to the turbolift. The captain was not going to be happy with him. He wasn't very happy with himself right now. That look in Malista's eyes---what had she expected him to do? To say? He didn't want to embarrass her in front of Tom. How could he have taken advantage of an innocent? He felt like a depraved sex maniac.

************

Malista was making for her quarters on a straight, unwavering path. Her normally deferential manner was totally absent as she blew by the others in the corridor without noticing their reactions to her stormy countenance. Tom had to sprint to catch up with her and match her long stride, which was almost, but not quite a run. He studied her expression. She was muttering one word repeatedly under her breath. "*Pallikaras*!"

"What?" Tom asked. "Malista, could we slow down? I'm running out of breath. And you need to go to Sickbay."

She didn't slow down. She screeched to a halt and whirled to confront him. "I don't want to go to Sickbay!" For the first time since he'd known her, a Greek accent colored her words. She sounded like a two year old throwing a tantrum.

Tom squinted his eyes at her with a stern frown. "You will report to Sickbay, Crewman Shadow. Now! That is an order." She'd never seen him in command mode. His performance was impressive. He was serious. But that didn't lessen her anger---at Harry, at Tom---at the whole male gender.

She drew a deep breath with a hiss. Clenching her teeth, she responded, "Yes, Lieutenant." She spun on her heel and launched herself in the direction of the turbolift. He trailed along behind her.

Maybe if he gave her a few minutes, she'd calm down and forgive him for pulling rank. Maybe. But he wouldn't count on it.

By the time he caught another turbolift and reached Sickbay, she was sitting on a biobed. The doctor was running a dermal regenerator over the slight cut on her head "Have you experienced any blurred vision? Any other symptoms?"

"I have a headache," she snarled, her eyes on Tom Paris.

The doctor's eyebrows went up as he followed her gaze. He turned back to her. "I can give you a mild analgesic for that." He prepared a hypo and injected her. "Please report any additional symptoms at once."

"Is that all?"

The doctor didn't seem intimidated by her hostile tone. He didn't take it personally since it seemed to be directed, not at himself, but at Lt. Paris. He wasn't surprised. Mr. Paris seemed to have that effect on many people. "Yes, Crewman. You're dismissed."

She jumped off the biobed and, for the second time that night, pushed Tom's shoulder to remove him from her path.

"Malista?" Tom called. "Sis?" He looked at the doctor and shrugged. Paris followed her once more. He didn't know what the hell had happened between Harry and Malista, but he couldn't wait to find out.

Malista knew he was following her, but refused to acknowledge his presence even when he once again caught up with her. She decided she wasn't ready to go to her quarters. It would just give Tom a chance to corner and interrogate her. She marched into Sandrine's like an invader establishing a beachhead. She went directly to the bar and seated herself on the only available stool, the one at the end of the bar. Next to her, Jenny Delaney was looking almost as angry as Malista.

Malista signaled for a drink. Jenny eyed her. "Are you ticked off, too?" the younger Delaney sister asked, correctly interpreting Shadow's body language and expression.

Malista had never talked to the Delaneys, but everyone knew who they were. Identical red-headed twins were hard to miss---especially when they were so---socially active. She nodded, holding onto her anger as she received her beer and took a sip.

"I bet I know why," Jenny said. She seemed to have had a few drinks, but it hadn't taken the edge off her anger. "*Men*!" she spat.

Malista agreed with that sentiment one hundred percent. "Yeah. Men!" 'One minute I'm being held and kissed like I'm a precious treasure, the next he dumps me on the ground and pretends it never happened!' she thought to herself furiously. She touched her glass to Jenny's in a toast. "Men! Those *pallikarathes*!"

"Yeah!" Jenny agreed enthusiastically, then looked at Malista through unfocused eyes. "What? Is that a Klingon word?"

"No, it's Greek," Malista explained. "What are you drinking?" Synthehol shouldn't have such an affect, no matter how much Delaney drank.

"The blue stuff from the planet. Want some? Whazzit mean? That word?"

"Bad-tempered thugs!" Malista replied, finding satisfaction in recognizing a kindred spirit. So she wasn't the only woman having trouble understanding men!

"Know any more good ephi---epith---names for those stinkers?" She poured a glass of the blue stuff for Malista.

"If I switch to Klingon," Malista said, companionably. "*Patahk!* *Ha'Dlbah*!" She'd learned those words from listening to the chief engineer.

"Yeah," Jenny said. "Men!"

"You can say that again! The liars!"

Tom Paris was standing just out of sight, but close enough to eavesdrop on this conversation. He could tell where this was going and he didn't want to be anywhere in the vicinity. That would be asking to become a target. Malista was safe on board. He couldn't believe she was bonding over drinks with Jenny Delaney.

What an unlikely duo! And drinking that blue syrup from the planet below? He made a face as he recalled the taste. He wouldn't want to have their hangover tomorrow morning.

Tom decided to leave them to it. It was dangerous to be a man around those two right now. The other women on the holodeck were drifting over to the bar as well, attracted by the topic under discussion. Whatever Harry had done, it seemed to have brought out Malista's aggressive instincts. She wasn't acting scared or self-conscious right now.

'Wait till Chakotay hears about this!' he thought as he left Sandrine's to look for B'Elanna. She could keep an eye on Malista and Jenny and maybe find out what happened.

**************

"Come on, Harry. Give. What happened?" Paris had trapped Kim at a corner table in the mess hall during breakfast.

The ensign met his eyes directly, trying to convince his friend to back off. "Nothing happened." It didn't work. Harry dropped his eyes. He couldn't look at Tom without thinking about Malista. He'd let them both down---Tom and Malista.

Paris leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms as he inspected Kim's face, looking for clues. "Your mouth says no, but your eyes say yes. Come on! What happened? You two were down there alone. For about four hours. Alone. In the dark. Alone. With a nice romantic campfire. Alone. And you're telling me nothing happened?"

Harry directed his attention back to his plate. His rigid posture betrayed his tension. "I told you nothing happened."

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Paris said. Kim refused to look at him or comment. The persistent pilot gave up---on that tactic. "Well, at least Malista seemed to be all right. I was afraid being alone with you might traumatize her."

"Why?" Kim's eyes shot up. "Did she say something?"

Paris widened his eyes. "But Harry, if nothing happened, what could she possibly say?"

Harry's anger was simmering under the surface. Tom was being a major pain. "Excuse me," he said, rising with his tray in hand. "*Some* of us have work to do today."

Paris halted him with the simple expedient of grabbing his forearm. "Harry, she didn't---that big bully didn't hurt you, did she?" Paris' smirk pushed Harry right over the edge.

"Leave me alone, Paris!" He stormed out of the mess hall, so upset he didn't notice he still had his tray until he reached the turbolift. He passed it to Ensign Meldron and asked him to take it back to the mess hall. Meldron gave him a funny look, but agreed.

Paris went looking for B'Elanna who was late meeting him for breakfast. She'd joined the party at Sandrine's last night. Surely she knew what was going on.

*************

Ensign Harry Kim had a lousy day. In fact, it was probably the worst day he'd had since Voyager had been hurled across the galaxy to the Delta Quadrant. In his short lifetime, he couldn't remember ever having so many people angry with him at the same time. He thought he understood now to some small degree how Tom had felt on his first day aboard Voyager.

Captain Janeway had politely chewed him out for not taking better care of his commbadge and Malista. Tom was aggravating him to death for information--- even though he didn't really think anything had happened---and if he did find out the truth, Tom would be mad at him too. He'd found out during his lunch break that Susan Nicoletti, both the Delaneys, and, of course, Malista were not speaking to him at all. The silent treatment would have been bad enough---but the four of them also stared at him as if he were a lower form of life---when they looked at him at all. He wondered how much Malista had told them.

B'Elanna was avoiding him. If that wasn't bad enough, even Diane Russell, the ship's librarian, usually a quietly friendly mouse, had snapped at him when he'd made a simple request for information. He had come to the conclusion that every woman on the ship knew the depths to which he'd sunk in taking advantage of Malista's innocence.

The men, as usual, seemed to be clueless as to the cause. They were only aware of the effect. Except possibly for Tom and the first officer. Chakotay had been watching him all through the shift.

Ensign Kim tried to rationalize his sense of guilt away by arguing with himself as he worked.

**It was kissing. It was just kissing. I didn't do anything ---irrevocable.**

* Yeah, right. Because Tom showed up.*

**What do I do now? Apologize?**

* How are you going to do that? Tell her you enjoyed necking with her? Ask her if she wants a performance evaluation of her "lesson"?*

**I don't want to hurt her feelings.**

* Do you want to ask her out? Maybe continue her lessons?*

**I can't. It wouldn't work out.**

* Why not? *

**Tom would kill me if I hurt her.**

* So, don't hurt her. *

**Easier said than done.**

* Do you really find her attractive or were you just being kind? *

**Yes, she's attractive. But it wouldn't work.**

* Why not? *

**She probably thinks I'm too short for her.**

* Does she? Or do you think she's too tall? *

**I don't know.**

* She wasn't too tall last night. *

**Last night, we were sitting down.**

* Yeah! And lying down! *

**Shut up! I've got to stop thinking about her. There's no point. She's not even speaking to me now.**

* You'll see her in class in about an hour. She's your workout partner. She'll have to talk to you, right? *

"Right."

"Did you say something, Mr. Kim?" Chakotay was looking at him quizzically. So was Captain Janeway. And Tuvok. And Tom.

"No---no, I was just---" the ensign stammered. He could feel the blush staining his cheeks and throat. He stopped himself before he made some stupid excuse. He wanted to hit something. Maybe his head? Against the bulkhead? Repeatedly?!

"I'm here to relieve you," said a voice at his side. Harry turned. He hadn't even noticed Marsden's arrival. Harry turned over the Ops station and escaped from the bridge as quickly as possible.

Chakotay directed a questioning eyebrow at Tom who was snickering behind his hand as he turned over the conn to his own relief man. "Lieutenant Paris, could I have a few moments of your time?"

"In my ready room," the captain added emphatically.

************

Since they were now officially off-duty, the captain served cups of raktajino to Chakotay and Paris as she prepared to find out what was going on with Harry and Malista. She'd noticed that a certain amount of tension was present among other crewmembers as well. She wanted to get to the root of the matter. "Now, Mr. Paris," she said as she settled into her chair, "what is going on? Or should I say what went on last night?"

The amusement that had been darting in and out of the lieutenant's bright eyes all during his shift, now lit his whole face. "Well, Captain," he said, struggling to keep the laughter in check, "it seems that Ensign Kim has managed to---" He couldn't help chuckling and once he started, he couldn't seem to stop. His face turned red, and he tried to check himself, but he couldn't seem to get the words out.

His spontaneous laughter was contagious. Chakotay and Janeway found themselves smiling, then laughing with him.

"Tom! What?! Half the women in the ship are acting as if they'd enjoy lynching Harry. What in the world did he do?" Janeway choked out between giggles.

His eyes tearing, his face flushed, Tom took a deep breath and tried to hold it. "Just a second---Hoo, hoo! Ahem!" He cleared his throat and tried to get a grip on his sense of humor, but laughter continued to ripple through his voice. "Well, it seems that---Mr. Kim---I didn't think he had it in him---H-H-Harry has managed ---single-handedly at that---to start---a battle of the sexes."

He spluttered with laughter, losing control once more as he pictured Harry's expression during their lunch break--- when every woman in the mess hall snubbed him. Then the men had begun following suit. They were bearing the brunt of the women's anger with Ensign Kim and to say they weren't happy about it---was an understatement.

Tears were running down Janeway's cheeks. Poor Harry had looked so bewildered and guilty and depressed.

Chakotay had given up and rested his head on his forearm on the desk as he guffawed. He looked up for a moment at Tom's last remark. "Started a battle of the sexes? I never knew it had ended!" For some reason that struck him as hilarious and he collapsed again, his breath coming in huffs and pants.

Fifteen minutes later, having laughed themselves into exhaustion, tears, and sore stomach muscles, the three of them took deep, cleansing breaths and steadfastly refused to look at each other. Every time they did, they started laughing again.

A contributing factor may have been because it had been a long time since there had been anything to laugh about---or because they were tired after a long day---and even longer weeks of hard work. They were all punchy and easily amused in their fatigue.

Janeway wiped her eyes with a tissue and passed one to Chakotay. "Tom. Details?" She cleared her throat a few times.

"Actually, I don't have details on exactly *what* Harry did. Harry's not talking and Malista didn't get specific." Another chuckle interrupted. Tom pinched his own legs, hoping the pain could sober him.

"It seems whatever he did, he really---really ticked Malista off." He hit his leg with his fist a few times. "Hoo. Hoo. Hmph. I may have helped in ticking her off---I ordered her to Sickbay. She wasn't happy with me. But after she left Sickbay, she went to Sandrine's. She and Jenny Delaney started an anti-man rally of their own. You know---they were both ticked off, they were both drinking---and it wasn't synthehol. I left and sent B'Elanna to monitor the situation since I didn't want to have my head handed to me---Any man that wandered into range was just asking for it. Anyway the two of them were egging each other on and complaining about how rotten men are," Tom said, breathlessly.

"Jenny Delaney and Malista Shadow?" Janeway asked. The mind boggled at such a combination. Talk about opposites!

"They had a common enemy," Chakotay remarked, then snorted a laugh as the captain raised an eyebrow at him. He quickly looked away before he lost control again and brought his drink to his lips as a distraction.

"Oh, that's not all! Diane Russell showed up, furious at Dalby for standing her up or something. So she joined the party. By the time B'Elanna got there, twenty different women had taken over Sandrine's, chased all the men out, and were talking wildly about appropriate punishments for the assorted men in their lives who'd committed all kinds of infractions---from forgetting birthdays to cheating on them with other women," Tom commented. "Malista told the whole group that Harry, and I quote, 'led her on, then dumped her and ignored her'."

"Harry? Harry *Kim*?" Janeway repeated. She couldn't believe it of the young ensign. Harry Kim, a heart-breaking playboy? But he was so---cute! She bit her lip---hard---to stop a giggle from escaping at the image her mind conjured--- Harry Kim dressed as Don Juan with a rose clenched in his teeth and a sneer on his lips. She nearly smothered as she held her breath, trying to stop herself from losing control.

A rippling giggle underscored Tom's words as he added, "I think it was the 'ignored' part that got him in hot water." He covered his eyes with one hand and pounded his leg with the other, as his amusement once again got the better of him.

Chakotay who'd just taken another sip of raktajino, laughed explosively and choked on his drink. He managed---barely---to cover his mouth with a tissue in both hands to make sure he didn't spray the room. He coughed to clear his throat. Paris grinned at him sympathetically while Janeway pounded on his back. He waved her away and wiped more tears from his cheeks.

Janeway reseated herself, her breathing unsteady. Her face was serious though her eyes still twinkled. "So how did this escalate? Malista was angry at Harry. Jenny was upset---why was Jenny upset?" She used her index fingers to brush away her tears, struggling valiantly to regain her composure.

Chakotay could answer that one. "Freddie Bristow. He canceled their date at the last minute and she found out he'd made two dates for the same night." He was gasping as he tried not to succumb to laughter again. "The other date---was with ---her sister, Megan."

Tom's mouth dropped open in awe. That wasn't funny. That was suicidal. Bristow must have a death wish. First, he went after B'Elanna. Then he went after both Delaneys---at the same time! "Commander, you have to talk to that boy before he gets himself killed!"

Janeway agreed, but didn't say so. It wouldn't be diplomatic. "So Malista and Jenny became a rallying point for every woman who was upset with a man?" Ohh, she wish she'd been there. Of course, if she had, the whole thing might have fizzled before it got started and then---

Paris nodded with a rueful smile. "B'Elanna said the others seemed to feel better after ---venting their anger, but every woman there got mad on Malista's behalf. They're aware of her background and they know---I think Sue or B'Elanna had told them to be on the lookout to help her if she needed it. So they all knew that she was extremely inexperienced. And I think---hoo, hoo---" Tom wheezed with laughter again, "I think they all felt betrayed, because every one of them---they would have---they all trusted Harry! And they felt he betrayed their trust---as well as Malista's."

"That cad!" Chakotay hissed, before bursting into roars of laughter once more, falling out of his chair to the floor. It was infectious. His roars set Tom off again.

Janeway gave in and giggled at the thought of Harry wearing a black hat and cape, skulking along like the villain in a melodrama and twirling a mustache. She held her aching sides with one arm and swatted at Chakotay's shoulder with the other. "Stop it. Stop it! Ow! Ow, it hurts. Stop making me laugh." After a few seconds, she managed to say, "So what do we do about this?" She began to tuck stray wisps of her hair back into place.

Chakotay pounded on his chest and coughed a few times. He dragged himself back into his seat and tried to get back to business as he mopped his face with a tissue. "Captain, I think we need to stay out of this. The other women will cool off---eventually. I don't think they'll really inflict bodily harm on Mr. Kim. He'll survive. He may even learn something from this experience. One good thing, I do think this shows Malista is making progress."

"She certainly made some friends. They had more than one common enemy," Tom chortled. "They all had the---mother of all hangovers this morning!"

"That will teach them to stick to synthehol," the captain remarked unsympathetically.

"They probably blame Harry for their hangovers, too," Chakotay gasped, stifling a chuckle.

"Well, Tom," Janeway said, "Can we count on you to keep us informed? We'll let Malista and Harry resolve their problem themselves."

"Oh, you can count on me, Captain," Tom said as he staggered to his feet, cradling his aching ribs and stomach with his arms. "This is better than a French farce!"

The relief bridge crew wondered what had gone on in the ready room that led three of the senior officers to stumble out of the meeting looking exhausted, rumpled, tearstained, and as sore as if they'd been beaten. They wondered, but they didn't comment. They wouldn't dare. Any theory that covered all the facts was a little too scary to contemplate.

**************

His plan to talk to Malista during their self-defense class wasn't a success. First of all, Natwick decided to use holographic partners this time. Secondly, she was avoiding him. Every time he tried to get close enough to say hello, another crewmember---another female crewmember--- would be there talking to her as if the conversation was of vital importance.

In fact, every woman present was ignoring Harry Kim---ostentatiously ignoring him. After his third try, he tried to concentrate on the physical effort required for the lesson, though he couldn't help watching Malista out of the corner of his eye.

She wasn't having a problem being aggressive this evening. She was wiping the mat with her holographic opponent. Harry winced in sympathy as the male hologram was slammed to the mat and nailed with a kick to the head. The way she felt about Harry right now, she'd probably do the same to him, if given the chance.

Natwick blew his whistle. "Computer, remove holographic figures." As the characters disappeared, the coach signaled the students to surround the center mat and seat themselves. "Now we're gonna let you try these new moves on a live target. Do I have any volunteers?" No one spoke. "Thank you, Mr. Kim. It's so kind of you to volunteer."

Kim hadn't volunteered, but he arose and stepped forward to the center of the mat. He should have expected something like this from Natwick. He knew he was in for it. He would be everyone's punching bag. Well, maybe he deserved it. He refused to look in Malista's direction. He didn't want to see her reaction. He hoped she wasn't smiling gleefully. He wondered if she had put Natwick up to this. He didn't want to think so.

"Okay, Kim, take this weapon and prepare to attack your victim," Natwick's eyes held a malevolent gleam as he handed the younger man a lightweight piece of pipe about fourteen inches long.

Harry's jaw clenched. He didn't know how Natwick had heard about it, but this was an unabashed reminder of how he'd almost killed Tom Paris with a similar pipe while in the Akritirian prison. The thought sent a cold chill rippling through his body. He glared his dislike for his instructor, but hefted the pipe, grimly prepared to get this over with.

Others had recognized the significance of the pipe, including Malista. The other students had been prepared to give Harry a few bruises, nothing serious, just a way to show their disapproval of his actions. But Natwick had gone too far.

"Can I have a volunteer to demonstrate how to disarm an attacker with a pipe?" Natwick called out, his eyes traveling the circle of students. An unspoken message ran around the circle like a ripple of electricity. No one volunteered. They all sat stolidly, watching Natwick with silent condemnation.

Surprised by the lack of sound, Harry ran his gaze around the circle. While many of the students were angry at him, they didn't like Natwick or his bullying tactics. Harry was the lesser of two evils. The students refused to cooperate with their coach in punishing their fellow student. Even Malista. She had the best reason for wanting revenge.

'I betrayed her trust,' Harry thought. 'I almost seduced her. She probably hates me.'

Natwick didn't give up easily. "How about you, Chell? You want to try it."

The Bolian smiled at him insincerely. "Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Natwick. I think I pulled a muscle in my leg a few minutes ago."

The coach snorted. He tried a few other names. Every one of them responded with the excuse of injuries to various body parts. Finally, the only student he hadn't asked--- "Shadow? How about you? You want a piece of this guy?" His eyes danced with malicious glee.

Her face expressionless, Malista got to her feet. The other students reacted by looking at each other, puzzled by her cooperation. She moved to the center of the mat, facing Harry and snapped her body into the ready position. Natwick moved to her side. He didn't want to miss a second of this.

Harry Kim stared at her. He wasn't sure he could do this---pretend to attack her. It awakened and stirred his feelings of guilt. She nodded at him and beckoned him towards her with the fingers of one hand. She was set, her face dispassionate. He inhaled, lifted the pipe and charged at her in a mock attack. She lunged to meet his rush, locking both hands around his wrist. She was following the response pattern perfectly. Then she suddenly deviated from the correct pattern.

Instead of blocking the weapon, flipping Harry, or pinning his arm behind him, she pulled his arm, swinging it to the side with all the force of his momentum and her push behind it---and plunged it into Natwick's midsection.

The air exploded out of his lungs in a loud rush as he doubled over and then fell back to hit the mat with a resounding thump. It was the first time any student had ever managed to dump Natwick on his butt. He lay on the mat, the wind knocked out of him, struggling to breathe. His eyes flaming with anger---and other emotions less readable.

Without looking at Harry, Malista released his arm and walked over to offer Natwick her hand. With a perfectly straight face, she said, "Sorry, coach. You must have been standing too close. I hope this won't affect my grade."

Stifled whispers and muffled snorts and titters of laughter broke the silence. Natwick slapped her hand away, refusing her assistance with a growl.

She threw her hands up in the air and stepped back. She pivoted on her heel and found Chell still seated on the mat. "You might need some help getting to Sickbay with that pulled muscle."

Chell allowed her to pull him to his feet and pretended to hobble towards the exit, holding her arm for support. The other students who'd claimed to be injured followed his lead. The whole class quickly melted away leaving Harry standing in the center of the mat.

Natwick got to his feet, still clutching his stomach. He cast a contemptuous glance at Kim and exited without comment.

Harry looked down at the pipe in his hand. He dropped it on the mat and kicked it away viciously. "If I live to be a thousand," he told himself, "I will never understand women."

***************

The story was too good and there were too many witnesses. Within thirty minutes, the fall of Natwick was being discussed all over the ship. Sandrine's was abuzz. Tom and B'Elanna had heard the news from Chell. "She what?" Paris said loudly.

Torres hushed him as she saw Harry walk in.

As Kim approached their table, Chell moved on to the next eager listener. Torres looked at him calmly. At least she was acknowledging his existence now. "May I sit down?" Harry asked in a subdued voice.

Paris and Torres exchanged glances. "Sure, Harry. Pull up a chair," Paris said. "You want a drink?"

"No. I want to talk to B'Elanna. If you're speaking to me, that is," the ensign said, watching her and waiting for her response.

"Of course, I'll talk to you, Harry. You're my friend," Torres reassured him.

"You weren't talking to me this morning," he commented, relief evident in his dark eyes.

Torres frowned at him as she remembered. "I had a hangover this morning. That I got on your account. Never mind, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Do you want me to leave you two alone?" Paris asked, smiling innocently.

Harry stared at him tiredly. "If you promise to stop joking, you can stay."

Torres and Paris exchanged another look. They were getting very good at communicating without words. All it took was practice. "What's up, Harry?" Paris

asked.

"B'Elanna, I know Malista probably told you---everything. Right?"

"I don't know about everything. She told me some things. What's the problem, Harry?"

Kim pushed his fingers through his hair and clutched his head with exasperation. "I don't know what I should do. I've really messed up with Malista---and just about the time I think she's going to take a chance to beat the living daylights out of me---Chell told you what happened tonight, right?"

Paris grinned. "Yeah, if I'd known she was going to flatten Nitwit Natwick I would have sold tickets---or caught it on a vidcam. Hey, you suppose Security---" He trailed off in the face of his companions' disapproval. "Okay. Never mind."

"Tom, be quiet or go away," Torres ordered. "Go ahead, Harry."

"Well, you're a woman. Could you tell me why she did it? She's mad at me. I tried to apologize, but she wouldn't let me get close enough to even talk to her. She had a free shot at clobbering me---I wouldn't have blamed her if she had---but she didn't take it. Explain that to me. Does this mean she likes me? Does she hate me? I don't get this."

Kim was seriously disturbed. He'd never had a problem like this with Libby. Once he'd found the nerve to ask her out, their relationship had run smoothly and in a straightforward manner. Harry didn't know what he could do to restore his friendship with Malista. All he knew was that he wanted to be her friend ---or maybe---"B'Elanna, what's going on in her head?"

It was a plea for help that Torres couldn't ignore. "Harry, all I can tell you is if it was me in that situation---and Tom was being set up to take a beating---even if I was furious with him---I'd defend him. I might want to beat him senseless, but I wouldn't let anybody else do it."

"Hey!" Paris protested. "What did *I* do?"

She slid a slow warning glance up at him. "Nothing--- yet. We're speaking hypothetically."

Harry rubbed his forehead as he concentrated. "You mean she hasn't forgiven me, but she still cares about---likes me?" He wished he'd gotten more than four hours sleep last night. It would be easier to think.

"That's my opinion," B'Elanna said. "I think I could give you better advice about making up with her if I knew exactly what you did that made her so mad in the first place."

"Did Tom tell you to ask that?" Harry said, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Tom doesn't put words in my mouth," Torres stated.

Paris grinned and slid an arm around her shoulder. "No, Tom would rather put---" Her elbow in his ribs cut off his wisecrack. "Ow! Don't poke me! I'll shut up." He put his index finger in front of his closed lips.

Kim sighed. "I thought you said she told you what happened."

"She gave us a one sentence summary," Torres said.

"Us?!"

"The KTERS. It's a new club. Jenny and Malista are the founding members," Torres said.

"What do the letters stand for?" Kim asked reluctantly.

"Kill Those Eternal Rats Society. The rats part refers to men," Paris explained helpfully. "And on behalf of the men of Voyager, Harry, I'd just like to thank you for getting all the women in an uproar and making them hate us! Except for my beloved B'Ella, of course."

"You're pushing it, Paris," Torres said, frowning him into submission.

He put his index finger back over his mouth and subsided into his chair. There was a time to speak and a time to be quiet. Tom Paris was learning wisdom.

Harry groaned. "Geez. How did I get into this mess?"

B'Elanna was beginning to feel sorry for him. "I don't know. How did you?"

"It was the ignoring that got you in big trouble, Harry," Paris advised solemnly. "They don't like being ignored. They'll do all kinds of things to get your attention ---Ow! Like elbow you!" Paris exclaimed indignantly, moving his chair to get out of B'Elanna's reach.

"Why do you think this is so funny?" Kim asked, grumpily.

A hint of glee peeked out of Tom's blue eyes. "Because, for once, nobody's mad at me! I'm not the one who's in trouble," he announced with a satisfied smile.

B'Elanna said. "Your best friend is. You want to help him?"

"Oh, yeah," Paris muttered. "Sorry, Harry."

Harry gave his friend a rueful glance. "It's okay, Tom. I probably kidded you more than I should have when you were trying to get B'Elanna's attention. B'Elanna, tell me what she said. I want to know how much damage control I need to do," Kim replied. It was typical of the Ops Officer to put it in engineering terms.

Torres thought for a moment, trying to recall Malista's exact words. "She said you led her on---then you dumped her, and you ignored her."

Harry Kim's mouth dropped open. He couldn't take it in at first. "That's what she said?"

"What did you think she would say?" B'Elanna demanded.

Harry ignored the question, his mind was racing, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. "So if she wasn't mad because---then when I---but I didn't want---but she thought---so when I---then she---Oh, no---Damn! But why didn't she---no, she couldn't if she thought ---but then why---that's it! That has to be it!"

Paris was chuckling as he listened to Harry's rambling. Torres frowned at both of them. Tom made an effort to sober up as Harry's gaze suddenly refocused and a smile began to spread across his face.

"What has to be it?" B'Elanna asked. She hadn't followed his train of thought at all.

Harry jumped to his feet and grasped B'Elanna's face between his hands. He planted a quick kiss on her lips. "Thanks, B'Elanna. You're a genius." He dashed out of the holodeck.

"Hey!" Paris yelled after him. "Get your own girl! This one's mine!"

"*What* did you say?" Torres drawled, ominously.

"I love that glint in your eyes, B'Ella," Tom said ingenuously. He leaned in for a quick kiss of his own. He kissed her again, a slow lingering kiss. She growled low in her throat. He growled back.

She smiled---dangerously. He wasn't afraid. He smiled back---dangerously.

Chell, who was coming back towards their table, decided he really didn't need to talk to either of them right now and went looking for more comfortable companions.

**************

His footsteps slowed as he approached her quarters. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to do this tonight. She was probably tired. She might not even be here.

'Don't chicken out now, Harry,' he told himself. 'You need to straighten out this misunderstanding. Before it gets worse.'

"Get away from me." It was Malista's shaky voice coming from around the corner where the hallway formed a dead end next to the storage facilities. Harry quickened his pace.

"Now why would I want to do that?" A husky, growl. Harry knew that voice. It was Ensign George Natwick.

Harry quietly stepped around the corner. Malista was up against the bulkhead. Natwick, his hands resting against the wall on either side of her shoulders, had her pinned there. She had flattened herself against the wall as if she wished to melt into it to get away from him. His body was about six inches from hers as he leaned in.

Harry started to move, but stopped himself, fighting his natural instincts to go to her rescue. He and Tom had discussed Malista Shadow and Chakotay's advice. Natwick wasn't even touching her. He would let her handle it on her own---if she could. If she could not---

"Back off and leave me alone," she said, fear making her voice quiver. She tried to avoid his eyes, but he was right in her face.

"Why should I?" he sneered. "Come on, Shadow. You're a woman. I'm a man. Let's do something about it."

"I don't want to."

"Well, what if I do want to?" His eyes drifted the length of her body, still clad in the tight-fitting jumpsuit.

She sounded more assertive as fear gave way to anger at his presumption. "Back off!"

"What? You're gonna make me? You dumped me tonight, because I wasn't expecting anything from you. You've been acting scared of your own shadow since you came to that class. You think you can take me? Now? When I'm ready?" His tone was slightly contemptuous as his stare returned to her face.

She drew breath deep into her lungs and forced herself to focus and think clearly. She lifted her chin defiantly. "I think you'd better back off now, Mister! You may be able to take me down, but I'll take you with me." Her green eyes glittered angrily into his. "I'll hurt you. Coming after me will cost you something." Her tone projected her utter confidence that while she might not win, she wouldn't be the only loser.

He examined her expression, the sudden readiness of her body to respond to attack. She would fight. He stepped back, letting his arms drop to his side. "Not bad, Shadow. You're getting the hang of it." His menacing air had disappeared, replaced by objective evaluation of her stance.

She frowned at him, baffled by the unanticipated change in his demeanor.

"I wanted to see if what happened tonight was a one-shot," Natwick said. "Nearly anyone can find the courage to fight for someone else. Some people can fight only for themselves. The best are those who can do both. If you don't get it, ask your little friend there." He jerked a thumb toward Harry Kim, still standing at the entrance to the passageway. He strode past the ensign, turned and called to them, "See you both in class tomorrow."

Malista fell back against the wall limply, her eyes closed.

Harry approached her. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes flashed open. "Why didn't you stop him?" she asked.

"I didn't have to," Kim replied matter-of-factly. "You stopped him."

A grin spread across her face. "Yeah, I did. Didn't I?" she said unsteadily. "Wow! I can't believe---did you see that? I told him to back off---and he did." She seemed amazed at her own temerity.

Kim smiled at her proudly. "Hey, any sensible man would back off if you said it that way. You sounded deadly. He was testing you. You passed the test."

Her smile dropped away as she suddenly realized she was talking to Harry Kim. "Excuse me, I was going to my quarters."

Kim lost his smile as well. "Malista, can we talk? I think I need to explain what happened last night."

She looked past his shoulder as she tried to step around him. "I don't think you need to explain. I'm not stupid. I know what happened."

He blocked her way by stepping in front of her once more. "Malista. Please? We need to talk about it. You didn't understand---I didn't---Please? Can we sit down somewhere and talk about this?"

Reluctantly, she slanted those green eyes toward him. "I don't have much time. I have another---appointment."

"Please? At least give me a chance to explain---to apologize?" His earnest boyish face was his best argument.

"All right," she sighed. "Come on. We can talk in my quarters." He stepped aside to let her lead the way.

In her quarters, she chose to sit in the big armchair, cross-legged, arms braced on the arms of the chair. He sat gingerly on the edge of the couch, leaning towards her as he struggled to find the proper words to explain. She stared at him, waiting as patiently and silently as a statue. Her defenses were in place. He couldn't read her expression or tell what she was thinking. "Malista, B'Elanna told me what you said," Harry began awkwardly. "That I---uh---"

"Led me on, dumped me and ignored me?" Shadow completed his sentence.

"No! I mean, yes, that's what she said. But that's not what happened!" Harry exclaimed.

"I was there, Harry. I know what happened," she said gruffly. Her jaw tightened.

Harry drove his fist into the palm of his hand. "Malista, that's what I mean about a misunderstanding. It may have seemed to you---I mean I understand---" He stopped to collect his thoughts. "Let me start over. Last night, we were kissing and it was really nice---" As he reminisced, he began to smile. "But then Tom showed up---"

"And you couldn't get rid of me fast enough!" Malista interjected. "What's the matter, Harry? Did you think my big brother might get mad at you? Are you afraid of Tom?"

"What?! No!" Kim made an effort and controlled his exasperation at her stubborn refusal to listen or see his viewpoint. "I heard someone coming and I jumped up to see who it was. It could have been one of the locals checking on our fire. I was trying to protect you."

She scrutinized him with an unshaken air of skepticism. "And then it turned out to be Tom."

"Yes. I didn't want you to feel embarrassed. I wasn't sure how Tom would react if he knew---what we'd been doing. He's very protective of you and he trusted me to---take care of you," Harry faltered to a halt. Her stony expression wasn't encouraging. "All right, Malista. I'll be honest---"

"That would be a nice change."

Kim wisely ignored that interruption. "I felt guilty about taking advantage of you. I felt guilty because Tom trusted me to take care of you and I felt I let him down. And I felt guilty---really, really guilty---because I wasn't sure just how far we might have gone---I might have gone with you---if Tom hadn't shown up when he did. I mean, things were getting out of control---"

"They were?" she asked. She was relaxing into the chair, the stony expression softening.

He seemed to have *finally* said something right. "Yes, they were. Like I told you last night, you're a very attractive woman. Alone there, it would have been easy to---get carried away---and you might have regretted it later. All of that rushed through my mind when I recognized Tom coming to our campfire. Then I was feeling guilty and embarrassed and I didn't know what to say."

"You wouldn't even look at me!" she accused, her voice betraying a hint of the hurt she'd felt---was feeling.

"I couldn't," Harry explained candidly. "I was afraid you'd be looking at me---the way you're looking at me right now. I'm so sorry, Malista. I didn't mean to hurt you---or embarrass you."

"I thought you were---ashamed that you'd kissed me. I thought maybe you just felt sorry for me," she confided, blurting the words without thinking.

Harry was dumbfounded. He'd known she had little confidence in her own sexual appeal, but it had never occurred to him that she would doubt his sincere physical attraction to her, especially after what they'd shared.

"Malista, men don't kiss women out of sympathy---at least not often---and I don't at all!" he asserted. "Why would you think I was only kissing you because I felt sorry for you?"

She looked down at her hands and mumbled her response.

Harry couldn't understand it. He reached across and grasped her hand. "What? Malista, tell me! Why would you think I only kissed you because I felt sorry for you?" he repeated.

Her dark green eyes flashed up to his. "Because I had to ask you to kiss me! It wasn't your idea!" She snatched her hand away from his, her resentment patently obvious.

Kim collapsed back onto the couch, flinging his arms wide. "I just can't win! This is my own personal Kobayashi Maru!" He stared at her, eyes wide. "You don't understand, Malista. I guess I shouldn't have expected that you would. The only reason I didn't kiss you sooner was because you're an innocent! And you're afraid of men! And you were stuck out in the middle of nowhere alone with me! I'd have to be the worst kind of selfish, depraved---A man doesn't--- shouldn't take advantage like that! But I did anyway! That's why I was so worried."

She gaped at him in astonishment. "You weren't taking advantage. I asked you to give me kissing lessons."

Harry let out a short bark of laughter. "I should have said no! I should never have started something I couldn't---we---you wouldn't--- Never mind."

"You're acting weird again, Harry Kim," she said with a suggestion of a smile. "Are you trying to tell me---you did like kissing me?"

"If you couldn't tell that I liked it, then I was doing it wrong," the ensign replied with a sly smile.

Malista felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. "As far as I know, you weren't doing anything wrong."

"So---" Kim drawled hopefully. "Will you forgive me? Yes. I did lead you on, I didn't dump you---but I did ignore you. Or tried to. So will you forgive me?" Harry repeated. He sat forward on the edge of his seat, his elbows resting on his knees.

A smile was playing peek-a-boo as she tried to face him solemnly. "Yes. I'm sorry, too, Harry."

"For what?"

"For all those names I called you. For all those rude things I said about you. For all those punishments I thought up---"

Harry held up his hand. "Hold it. I don't think I want to hear this. Especially if Jenny Delaney was encouraging you. She has quite an imagination."

"So," she said, "where do we go from here?"

"What?" Harry Kim gazed at her blankly. He hadn't thought beyond making an apology and hoping it would be accepted. He had no idea what to say.

Her shy smile dissipated like wisps of fog on a sunny morning. "Are we---Do you---" She stopped. She had no idea how to ask the question. "You said that you enjoyed kissing me," she finished weakly.

"I did." Kim wasn't sure how he'd gotten there, but he had a sudden conviction he'd gotten himself up to his neck in quicksand. The light dawned. "Oh! You mean, where do we go from here?"

"That's what I said." Malista was not smiling now.

The ensign pulled at his collar. Somehow the room seemed warmer. "Well, I hope that since you've forgiven me for last night---for taking advantage of your inexperience---that we can be friends." He smiled uneasily. He wasn't sure what she wanted him to say.

"Friends?" She studied his face impassively, reminding him momentarily of Tuvok at his most Vulcan. It was hard to interpret her tone when she spoke in monosyllables.

"Yes. We can be friends, right?" He hoped he didn't sound as---pathetically inept as he thought he did.

"Friends." She said again. She closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, she permitted herself a small smile. "Yes, of course, Harry. We can be--- friends."

He almost let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't blown it after all.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"You need to leave now," she said gently, standing and moving toward the door. "I have to shower and get ready for my date."

He followed her, frowning at her unconsciously. "Date?" he echoed.

"Yes. If you'll excuse me---"

The door slid open. "Date?" he repeated.

"Yes, Harry." She gestured toward the open door.

"You have a date?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Tonight?" He reluctantly stepped into the corridor.

"Yes, Harry," she said politely. "Good night, Harry."

The door slid closed, leaving him standing there staring at it. "She has a date!" Harry said aloud to no one. 'Last night, she's taking kissing lessons from me ---and now---the very next night---she has a date---with someone else! Women!' he thought indignantly. He spun on his heel and marched away from her door.

*************

Tom Paris had a very bad feeling about this. "B'Elanna, are you serious? You aren't kidding, are you?" Without conscious thought, he began pacing again. "Jenny and Megan want to do a make-over on Malista? They'll probably give her flirting lessons and set her up on a date. I don't think she's ready for this. Why the hell couldn't Harry fall for her? They'd make a great couple! And I could trust *him* not to get out of line! I know how guys think. They all think Malista is an easy target. She's vulnerable. She's innocent. She'll fall for a smooth line."

Torres shook her head, smiling as she watched Tom's newly developed brotherly instincts kick into warp drive. It was a side of his personality she'd never seen. His protective instincts toward the two women were not exactly the same.

The chief engineer was certainly a less fragile character than Malista Shadow, but when he and B'Elanna had been prisoners of the Vidiians--- The memories of Tom's efforts to encourage and protect her roused a fierce sense of gratitude and loving affection for the pilot that demanded to be expressed.

Immediately!

She jumped to her feet and pounced on him, wrapping her arms tightly around him in an impetuous hug that nearly squeezed the breath out of him. "Attack hug!" she announced, rubbing her cheek against his chest.

Reflexively, he hugged her back just as tightly, surprised and touched by this unexpected display of affection. "What brought this on?" he asked, rubbing his cheek against her hair, then kissing and nuzzling the bumps on her forehead. His warm breath tickled.

She pulled her head back. She grinned at him. "You! You're irresistible when you're paranoid!"

"Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they aren't really out to get me," he said, blue eyes glowing.

Her chocolate brown eyes sparkled up at him. "Help! The paranoids are after me!'

"I'll rescue you," he volunteered.

"Later," she whispered. She stood on tiptoe and teasingly brushed her lips across his throat.

**********

Malista stood in the shower, the tears on her face indistinguishable from the drops of water pouring over her face and body. She allowed herself to cry for a short time, but shut off her tears with an effort of will just as she shut off the torrent of water. She toweled the glistening droplets from her light gold skin, and quickly pulled on her baggy green jumpsuit, one of the few clothing items she possessed other than her uniforms.

As she brushed her short black hair, she caught herself staring at her reflection. "What are you looking at?" she asked her mirror image. "Did you seriously expect that a man like Harry Kim would be interested in you?"

She made a sound between a laugh and a sob. "He's smart, talented, handsome. A Starfleet Academy graduate. A really nice man. He could have any short woman on the ship! Why would he want a hulking lummox like you?" She brushed her hair with vicious strokes as she continued her monologue. "You don't know anything! You're an innocent!" she quoted.

"That's his polite way of saying you're a moron who wouldn't know what to do with a man---except for kissing. I'm now an experienced kisser. Oh, sure. Let's put that on a resume. In a personal column. Single female seeks single male. Qualifications: She's been kissed a couple of times. Wow! That would start a stampede for your door! You idiot!" Disgusted with herself, she threw her hair brush down on the dresser and knelt to look under her bed for her shoes.

"Delaney to Shadow."

She cleared her throat to remove the last trace of the tears she'd shed before answering. "Go ahead."

"Malista! You're late! Get over here! Susan talked the doctor into loaning her the gizmo! We're all ready for a major reclamation project!"

In the background, Malista heard Susan berating Jenny. "For crying out loud, Jenny! You make her sound like a disaster area!"

"I'll be right there, Jenny. I feel like a disaster area. Shadow out." Malista gathered her courage in both hands and prepared to take her second step toward being assimilated into the collective sisterhood of women aboard Voyager.

**************

B'Elanna Torres, Tom Paris, and Harry Kim were seated at their customary table in the mess hall. B'Elanna had been wearing a secretive smile since her arrival, but refused to divulge the source of her amusement.

Tom had begun making wild, speculative guesses, each more outrageous than the one before. "The doctor's developed a holographic playmate for himself?"

"Don't be a pig," Torres sniffed.

Tom squinted as he thought furiously. "Someone stole all of Neelix's leola root supply?"

"You wish."

"Come on, B'Ella, give us a hint?"

"Us?" She jerked a thumb toward Kim.

Tom took a quick look at Harry's distracted frown. The boy wasn't paying attention. Kim had told them he'd apologized and Malista had forgiven him for whatever it was that happened. So why wasn't he in a better mood? The trio heard a commotion at the doorway and glanced over to identify the source.

Megan Delaney, Jenny Delaney, Susan Nicoletti, and another young woman had just come in the door. They were surrounded by five men from various sections of the ship, all vying for their attention as they made their way through the buffet line and to a large table.

Paris' jaw dropped. The other young woman was Malista Shadow. Torres reached over and gently pushed up on Tom's chin. He closed his mouth obediently and looked to her for an explanation. "How? What?" He frowned as he took in the changes in Malista's appearance. He darted a look at Harry to catch his reaction.

Kim was staring as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Her formerly short hair, now was almost shoulder-length, thick, and wavy, moving and swinging distractingly with each movement. It gave her a more feminine, softer look that drew attention to the lovely oval shape of her face. She was also wearing make-up for the first time. Blush to accent her high, elegant-looking cheekbones, green eye shadow that drew attention to the slight slant of her green eyes, and a moist red lip color that emphasized the fullness of her lower lip.

Tom looked at B'Elanna. Outraged, he demanded, "What did they do to my little sister? She looks---she looks---And look at all those---goofs---gawking at her!"

Torres laughed delightedly. She'd known Malista's new look would have an impact. And what an impact! The 'goofs' were absolutely and positively gawking at her. Every man on the ship was---or would be very soon. She was highly amused at Tom's reaction, which signaled the final disappearance of any lingering doubt in her mind that he was romantically attracted to the other woman.

B'Elanna thought it was ironic that Tom couldn't see the funny side of this. If this new, confident Malista Shadow had been on Voyager from the beginning, Tom Paris probably would have been part of the pack pursuing her. Or maybe not. Tom was more the lone wolf type. Except right now he bore more of a resemblance to Papa Bear than any kind of wolf. Torres stifled a giggle as she followed his glare across the room.

For the first time in her life, Malista wasn't cowering away from the stares she received. In fact, she was looking back and innocently enjoying the power of her femininity and prettiness.

She'd received a crash course in the art of flirting from the acknowledged mistresses of the game, the Delaney sisters. Secure in the knowledge that the Delaneys would deflect any inappropriate behavior, she was putting those lessons to use; smiling coyly, sliding those sparkling eyes up then gazing adoringly at each man in turn---even playing with her hair. She was currently dividing her attention among three admiring young men who were building her ego at a tremendous rate as they competed verbally to win her admiration.

Some of the onlookers were surprised to notice that the Delaneys were keeping a watchful, almost maternal, eye on the younger woman, making sure none of the men went too far or too fast for their ward. Two of the men who'd arrived with them had already been dismissed for some imagined offense and shooed away.

Torres examined Ensign Kim's reaction. 'Poor Harry!' she thought. 'He looks like he's just been fried by a systems overload!'

Harry Kim was alternating between staring at Malista Shadow and at his own plate. He abandoned his food and concentrated on drinking his tea. "Her hair was almost as short as mine last night," he commented, finally thinking of something innocuous to say.

"They used the Doctor's follicular accelerator," Torres replied. "It's usually used for regrowing hair on burn patients or for disguises for away teams, but he made an exception and let Susan Nicoletti borrow it."

Malista laughed aloud. Ensign Murphy was holding her hand, pretending to read her palm, prattling some nonsense as an excuse to stroke her palm with his index finger and gaze into her eyes.

Tom was slowly and deliberately getting to his feet, his fists clenching and jaw tightening.

B'Elanna snagged his wrist and reeled him in. "Sit down!" she hissed under her breath. "If you ruin this day for Malista, I swear I'll push you out an airlock, Tom Paris."

"But those guys---" he began, sitting down, but still frowning in their direction.

"Those guys are looking, not touching---well, hardly touching," Torres informed him. "Susan and the Delaneys are watching out for her. They're letting Malista get her feet wet without giving anyone a chance to push her in over her head."

Paris scowled, twisting his handsome features into a mask of Klingon-like ferocity. "Nobody better push Malista---anywhere, any time, any way---or I'll push his damn face in. She may look different---more grownup---but she still doesn't have any experience. Hell, she's probably never been *kissed*."

Harry strangled on his tea and began coughing. B'Elanna gently slapped his back to help him clear his windpipe.

Tom glared at him, his suspicions suddenly aroused. "Harry, what exactly did you---"

B'Elanna whacked Tom's arm. "Will you stop it? You are really getting paranoid when you start suspecting poor Harry! If you don't calm down, I'm going to tell Chakotay you need counseling. Eat your lunch," she ordered. "Both of you."

With one last cough, Harry stood. "I'm not very hungry. I'm going back to the bridge." He left without a backward glance.

Paris and Torres exchanged concerned glances. Then Tom turned his attention back to balefully keeping an eye on Malista's new admirers. He was just waiting for one of them to give him an excuse to go over there and take action.

B'Elanna sighed. It was going to be a long day---and an even longer week. B'Elanna didn't hold out much hope that Tom wouldn't hear about Malista's date for tonight, or the next night, or---and Neelix was throwing another party at the resort on Saturday evening. Malista was planning to attend---her first time at a party on the ship.

Torres intended to have a little talk with the Delaneys. Just to make sure they didn't go overboard. She didn't know if Tom's blood pressure could stand it if they dressed Shadow in one of their typically provocative outfits.

B'Elanna sighed again, but then smiled as she saw Tom's frown, thinking, 'He's so cute when he's belligerent. Kahless help him if he ever has a daughter of his own.' That idea sparked another train of thought.

Tom glanced at B'Elanna and was amazed to see her smiling thoughtfully, her mind momentarily miles and years away from the mess hall thinking of blue-eyed little girls.

************

Harry Kim was not having a good week. It seemed that everywhere he went, Malista Shadow was there or was just leaving, usually trailed by some panting playboy making eyes at her and trying to put his hands on her. Though she was seemingly dodging the hands, she wasn't making much of an effort to discourage her admirers.

One of them had even asked Harry for advice on the type of perfume Malista would like to receive as a gift. Kim had replied rather snappishly that he had no idea.

On Tuesday night, he'd gone to Sandrine's to meet Tom and B'Elanna. At a table in the corner, Malista and Susan Nicoletti were on a double date with Gerron and Ensign Michael Murphy.

Malista and Gerron? Harry found the idea ludicrous, but that didn't explain why he felt an urge to tell Gerron to keep his hands to himself. Maybe he'd been hanging around with Tom too much lately. Harry was getting infected with Tom's protective instincts. That must be it.

When Harry found himself noticing that the top two buttons of Malista's red blouse were left unfastened, he decided he'd better leave before Tom caught him looking at her and reacted in big brother fashion.

It wasn't that she was dressed provocatively. It was just that every time she leaned forward to pick up her drink, Harry caught a glimpse of cleavage peeking from the v-neck. If he could do that from across the room, he didn't want to think about the view Gerron and Michael were sharing. He found himself thinking about it a little too much and excused himself.

Harry decided to stay in his quarters when not on duty. That prevented him from having to watch Malista flirting with other men, but it didn't prevent him from hearing about it. On Wednesday night, she'd had a date with Crewman Joksuun Pakkin and had accompanied Jenny Delaney and her date, Ensign Seth Laknar to holodeck one for a picnic on Hestes Colony, renowned for the romantic views of the four moons rising over its mountain lakes.

Harry had heard all about it Thursday evening in the mess hall as Jenny and her sister had discussed it fairly loudly during dinner.

On Thursday, she learned to ice skate on a holodeck recreation of the ice lakes of New Sweden with Sven Haldersen, Megan Delaney, and Paul Bloorden. Susan Nicoletti and Malista were discussing sore muscles and Sven's 'adorable accent' as they worked on the bridge within earshot of Harry's station on Friday afternoon.

On Friday, Tom, B'Elanna, Malista, and Lieutenant Trent Salaka from the Biology Department attended the recreation of a performance of a musical play, something called The Man of La Mancha. B'Elanna had insisted on telling Harry all about it at lunch the next day. She'd expressed her approval of Trent's good manners and considerate behavior. It seemed that he'd known the play was emotionally moving and provided a box of tissues for each of the ladies in his party. Not that Torres had needed them. But Malista had been moved to tears several times.

And at every opportunity, Tom insisted on talking to Harry about his concerns for his 'little sister'. He was afraid she'd embarked on a campaign to date every unattached male on Voyager, and feared that one of them would try to involve Malista in a sexual relationship before she was ready to handle it.

Harry didn't really want to hear about it, but couldn't think of a way to discourage Tom without arousing suspicions again about his own relationship with her. Whatever that relationship was. Harry was uncertain about the strength of his feelings for her and what he wanted to do about them. He'd found himself thinking more often about Libby---and about Malista---and comparing and contrasting the two women.

As for Malista's feelings for Harry, she was always polite---friendly even, but ---distant. He remembered saying he wanted to be friends. It hadn't occurred to him she'd take him at his word so literally. He hadn't really meant 'just friends'. Maybe he should have done a better job of defining his terms.

The only positive note was that he'd evidently been forgiven his trespasses by the female contingent of Voyager. They were speaking to him again, politely, but with a hint of mistrust that had never been present before. He was evidently on probation.

The current object of their scorn was Freddie Bristow who'd tried unsuccessfully to pit sister against sister---evidently an unforgivable sin---at least till some other poor sap messed up and supplanted Bristow as chief villain on the shipboard grapevine.

Harry was on his way to his quarters when Susan Nicoletti caught up with him in the corridor. "Harry?" He paused and turned to face her as she caught up with him and matched his gait. "Harry, I was looking for you. Did you want to skip rehearsal or meet early tonight?"

"Tonight? Why?"

She lightly punched his arm. "The party at the resort? Remember? Tonight at 0800."

"Oh. I guess we can cancel rehearsal," Harry said listlessly.

Susan sent an evaluating sidewise glance in his direction. Casually, she said, "Have you decided what you're going to wear tonight? Instead of a Polynesian theme, Neelix decided to try for Acapulco!" She hid a smile at Harry's lack of enthusiasm.

"I'm not going."

Susan grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt. "What do you mean you're not going? Mariachis! Margaritas! Ensign Mendez has promised to teach us a Mexican Hat Dance in honor of Cinco de Mayo. Whatever that is."

He stared at her with a somber expression. "I'm just not in the mood for a party, Sue."

"Oh, well, I thought for sure you'd want to be there when you heard---" she broke off abruptly. She spun on her heel and started walking away, as if she'd reconsidered what she'd been about to say.

"What?" Harry asked.

Susan stopped near the entrance to her quarters, but kept her back towards him. "Oh, nothing!" she caroled.

"Susan?" Harry repeatedly ominously. It was obvious that she didn't want to tell him something. He felt strongly that he needed to know what she was keeping from him.

She turned back to face him with a show of reluctance. "Really, Harry, it's nothing. It's just a rumor. Nothing to concern yourself about." She didn't sound very convincing. She sounded like she was trying to placate him.

He advanced on her, stopping within whispering distance. "Susan, what were you going to say? I'd want to be there when I heard---what?"

Nicoletti gnawed on her upper lip for a moment. "Well, I don't know if I should say anything---to you. Maybe I should tell Tom Paris---I mean, he does consider himself---sort of responsible---"

"This is something about Malista?" Harry deduced. His patience was evaporating. "Sue, tell me."

"It's just a rumor. It may not be serious," she explained. "I mean, why get you or Tom all stirred up---"

"Just tell me," he said impatiently.

She sighed. "Well, all right. You promise not to do anything--- hasty?"

Harry nodded, his eyes intent on her face.

"Well," Susan glanced around the corridor as if to ensure no one would overhear. "There's a rumor floating around that tonight at the party---I don't know if I should tell you this, Harry. It could just cause unnecessary trouble."

Kim resisted the urge to wrap his hands around Nicoletti's throat and throttle the words out of her. "Tell me!" he demanded vehemently.

"There's a rumor going around that tonight at the party, George Natwick is going to get even with Malista--- for making a fool of him in class," she blurted out.

"How?"

"I don't know. That's all I heard. That he wants to get even. And what better place to embarrass her than on the holodeck when the whole crew is there?" she asked reasonably. "Do you think I should tell Tom?" she asked artlessly.

"No!" Harry snapped. His mind was racing as he came up with various scenarios and steps he could take as countermeasures. His eyes focused on Nicoletti once more. "No, don't tell Tom. I'll take care of it. Thanks, Susan. I appreciate the warning. I'll see you tonight." He spun and charged down the corridor to his cabin. He needed to make plans and find something to wear.

She watched him disappear then entered her own quarters. Megan, Jenny, Malista, and B'Elanna looked up from the computer screen. Smiling, Susan held up her right hand with a thumbs up gesture. "He'll be there, all right." For a moment, Nicoletti felt a twinge of guilt at manipulating her friend, Harry Kim. She quickly shrugged it off. She was doing it for his own good---they all were.

"Good," said Jenny. "Megan, did you take care of---"

Her twin smiled like a cat who'd been in the cream. "George knows what to do. You know, when he's not flexing all those muscles, he's kind of cute," she said thoughtfully.

Susan and B'Elanna exchanged dubious looks. There was just no accounting for tastes.

"Good," Jenny said again. "Now all we have to do is pick out an outfit for Malista to wear tonight. How about this one?" She indicated a picture from the ship's computer library.

The others leaned in to study the costume. B'Elanna and Malista both reacted with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. "Not unless you want Tom to have a stroke," Torres said.

Malista shook her head. "There's not enough material there for a bandage, much less a dress. Jenny, you could probably get away with that, but---"

"But Malista wouldn't feel comfortable showing so much skin," Susan concluded, earning a grateful nod from Shadow and Torres for her tact.

Jenny frowned at the screen, then her expression lightened. "Maybe I'll wear that one. Or save it for a special occasion. Let's see, what else---" She scrolled through the files of replicator patterns. "How about this one?"

They all peered at her next choice. "Jenny---" Malista began, only to stop when words failed her.

B'Elanna rolled her eyes in exasperation at the redhead. The two women were not exactly friends. They were temporary allies in the common cause of helping Malista Shadow. "Jenny, I know some people think less is more, but that doesn't apply to clothing items."

"Some people have the figure to carry off an outfit like this!" Jenny snapped cattily.

"Anyone who wears that outfit is likely to be carried off!" Megan giggled, defusing the disagreement before it could escalate. The truth of that remark drew a laugh.

Susan Nicoletti took over the computer controls while Jenny was distracted. "I think what Malista needs is something that leaves some mystery," she said diplomatically. "Something that---teases, but doesn't reveal---something---"

"Like that!" Malista, Susan, and B'Elanna said simultaneously, each pointing to the same costume.

Jenny and Megan studied the design with matching pouts. "Are you sure? That looks kind of---" Jenny began.

"Plain," Megan finished.

"It's perfect," Malista said with a happy smile.

****************

Neelix had done a remarkable job of decorating the holodeck resort with a Mexican motif. Multi-colored piñatas hung from the ceiling surrounding the dining area. The tablecloths were gaudily striped in bold primary colors, and the salsa and chips were in pottery dishes. The Mariachis were dressed in the full regalia, playing their instruments as they strolled around the room, their huge sombreros brushing the hanging decorations and setting them in motion.

A large dance floor had been cleared in the center of the room and the tables grouped around it in a loosely organized fashion. The buffet was set up by the pool, with a variety of 'authentic' replicated Mexican food---everything from enchiladas to flautas to chiles rellenos ---and more than enough jalapenos and pico de gallo to scald the palates of those who craved hot and spicy foods. Neelix had also thoughtfully provided a cactus-shaped dish of leola root dip, for those who cared to improve upon the original Alpha Quadrant recipes with a touch of Delta Quadrant cuisine.

Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay made an early appearance. Neelix was disappointed that they were still in uniform, but was pleased they were in attendance. The captain was recounting some story about her Academy days that involved drinking and a worm in a bottle and---eating it. Neelix thought that was disgusting. But then humans could be very strange in their culinary habits at times.

Lieutenant Paris and Lieutenant Torres entered the holodeck arm in arm. Paris cut a dashing figure though his fairness seemed strangely at odds with his chosen costume. He was dressed in black slacks, a black silk shirt with loose long sleeves and wide cuffs, and wearing a black cape that flowed almost to his feet and swung dramatically with his every movement. He was wearing black boots and a black flat-topped sombrero hung down his back, held by a string around his neck.

B'Elanna was wearing a white blouse with a short, tight-fitting red jacket over it, and a long, split skirt in the same shade of red. Her black knee-length boots added two inches to her height.

They walked over to greet the captain and first officer. Janeway studied Tom's apparel with an amused glint in her gray eyes. "Is that an authentic Mexican costume, Mr. Paris?"

He posed like a model and pivoted so she could get the full effect of the cape. "You've never heard of the legendary Zorro? He was the Robin Hood of California when Mexico owned it! Of course, you might have recognized the outfit---if a certain someone hadn't stolen the mask that goes with it," he said, a pout evident in the last sentence.

B'Elanna scowled up at him impatiently. "I let you keep the cape. I'm not going anywhere with a man who wears a mask. Masks are cowardly. There's no honor---"

Tom held up a hand. "Never mind," he said nobly, sounding martyred. "She wouldn't let me wear the mustache or the sword, either." He snagged a couple of drinks off the tray of a passing waiter and handed one to Torres.

"I'm sure you would have looked very dashing, Mr. Paris," Janeway commiserated with a twinkle in her eye. Chakotay just shook his head.

Other crew members continued to arrive, some in costume, others wearing civilian clothes or their uniforms. Jenny and Megan Delaney stirred the interest of the unattached males by appearing in the skimpiest sundresses ever seen in the Delta Quadrant. They seemed to defy gravity merely by staying in place. The sisters were holding court near the bar area.

There seemed to be an air of excitement, of expectation as the crowd grew. Chakotay picked up on it and searched the faces of the party-goers, hoping to find a clue to the source. He didn't like surprises.

There was a definite ripple of attention as Ensign Harry Kim strolled onto the holodeck. He was dressed simply in tight, dark brown pants with small silver circles studded down the sides to his boots. His white v-necked silk shirt had long sleeves that flared dramatically then were caught at the wrists with wide cuffs. He reminded many of the ladies who were holonovels fans of depictions of the pirate king. He even had a piratical gleam in his usually serious face as he quickly scanned the room before seating himself at a table near the entrance.

Malista hadn't arrived. Neither had Natwick. Kim settled himself for a long wait. The party wouldn't be in full swing for a few hours.

**********

Ensign George Natwick strolled onto the holodeck, preening himself in his chosen costume. With his typical arrogance, he'd decided to ignore the Mexican theme entirely and was wearing his usual resort clothes, tight-fitting stretch pants and a tank top that displayed his muscular build to its best effect. He seated himself at a table near the bar and cast his eyes around the room as if searching for someone. He caught Megan Delaney's eye. She gave him a thumb's up signal. She went to the comm panel on the wall.

Malista stood alone outside the holodeck, gathering her courage. It was an essential part of the plan for her to arrive unescorted. The plan, concocted mostly by the Delaneys, had seemed to be simple and easy to implement, but now---faced with having to carry it out, Malista was having second thoughts. She took a deep breath and strolled into the holodeck, her casual air contradicting the knot in her stomach.

It had all sounded so easy when Jenny and Megan had proposed the idea. Carried along on a wave of anger, hurt, and other mixed emotions, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, at this moment of truth, she wasn't so sure.

Susan Nicoletti had arranged for the music to come to a halt just as Malista walked in. It was like Cinderella making a grand entrance to the ball! Those who weren't facing the doorway quickly turned as they noted the reactions of those who were. Malista Shadow was the focus of all eyes with ten seconds of entering. She looked---breathtaking.

She was wearing a dark green skirt that fit tightly from her waist to her knees, then became a river of satin ruffles split from the knees to the ankles to allow for freedom of movement. She wore a white blouse with green embroidery that had elastic around the top that encircled her upper arms, leaving her neck and shoulders bare. There was absolutely nothing immodest about her costume---yet every man who saw her felt a compelling urge to caress that pale gold skin.

Malista smiled, a little self-consciously, then with pleasure as she saw Tom and B'Elanna standing across the room.

"I can loan her my cape," Tom muttered through gritted teeth.

"Don't you dare," Torres hissed, tightening her clutch on his forearm. "Tom, there's nothing wrong with that costume. She looks fine."

"She's showing too much skin!" he growled. "Trust me! Some guy is going to get the wrong idea. Someone will touch her. Then I may have to kill him."

"Tom!" One look at his face showed B'Elanna that he was serious. Torres could visualize the plan going up in smoke. There was no way it would work if Tom interfered, and no way short of knocking him unconscious to keep him from doing so. Well, maybe one way. She decided to go for it.

She distracted him. Without giving him time to protest, she dragged him around behind the flower-decorated trellis, tripped him, and got a lip lock on him as they sank to the floor locked in a passionate embrace. Not even concern for Malista could override his natural response. Within seconds, he'd forgotten Malista's name. Hell, he'd forgotten his own name---

Susan Nicoletti was impressed with B'Elanna's quick thinking. Her eyes widened as she sneaked a quick peek around the trellis. Whew! She fanned herself, stifled a giggle, then turned her attention back to setting the final stage of the plan in motion. She sent the signal to start the music again. It was a slow dance this time.

George Natwick got to his feet and asked Malista to dance. Taking her in his arms, he pulled her close to his body. She resisted, trying not to make a scene. "George!"

"Come on, Malista. You want to make your little friend jealous? Cooperate."

She frowned at him. "We're supposed to be dancing, not wrestling."

Harry watched silently. They were an impressive-looking couple, tall and good-looking, well matched in height. They danced well together---for a few moments. Natwick pulled Malista more tightly against him. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"George!" Malista said under her breath. "You don't have to hold me so tight."

"I like it," he whispered in her ear, counting on her desire not to make a scene to insure her cooperation. "You look great tonight, Shadow."

"You're supposed to dance with me, not be a pain," she shot back in an undertone.

"I thought you wanted to make your little friend jealous?" he sneered. "Trust me---I guarantee this will work."

She glared at him. "Stop making fun of him. He's not that little. Besides, most women don't measure a man's worth by his height. If they did, you might have a chance with a real woman."

"Real women love this. Besides, it will make him crazy. That's what you wanted, right?" He used his superior strength in an attempt to plaster her against his body.

Malista seemed to be resisting, politely trying to maintain a respectable distance. Harry got to his feet. This might be it.

Malista tried pushing away from Natwick with the hand on his shoulder, When that failed, she tried to work her other elbow between them to pry him away. He dipped his head and tried to kiss her. She dodged and his kiss fell on her cheek.

Megan and Jenny Delaney exchanged dismayed glances. George Natwick wasn't sticking to the script. This wasn't part of the plan. He wasn't supposed to get physical---with anyone. They darted a look at Nicoletti. Susan's eyes were fixed apprehensively on Harry Kim, who was crossing the dance floor with a determined, almost grim look on his face.

"George, stop it!" Malista was still trying to push him away without being obvious about it. At this moment, she'd forgotten the plan completely. She only knew that he was making her very uncomfortable---almost afraid--- and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

Natwick felt a tap on his shoulder and turned his head.

"May I cut in?" It was Harry Kim, smiling politely though his dark brown eyes burned with a heat that should have scorched the taller man to a crisp.

Natwick eyed the younger man. "Now why would I let you do that?"

"Because you want to keep all your body parts intact?" Kim suggested, with teeth clenched in a frozen smile for the benefit of their audience.

Natwick mulled it over in an instant. He might not like the young Operations Officer, but he was learning a healthy respect for him. He wouldn't give up easily and a fight between them would get nasty before it was over.

Besides, the captain and first officer were seated less than fifty yards away---and an uncooperative female---Naw, it just wasn't worth it. Natwick let his arms drop to his sides and stepped back. Looking her over, he said, "It's your loss, Sweetheart. I hope you and your little friend will be very happy." He couldn't resist a parting shot. "She may be more woman than you can handle, but have fun, little one." He walked back to the bar.

As soon as her hands were free, Malista wiped the feel of his kiss off her cheek with distaste.

Harry ignored him. Facing Malista, wordlessly, he held up his arms. She moved willingly into them without a moment's hesitation, sliding her arms around his neck. She didn't seem to have a problem dancing closely with Harry Kim. He could feel her trembling. His arm tightened protectively around her waist. "Are you all right?"

"Y-yes." Her eyes were suspiciously bright.

He drew her closer till they were dancing cheek to cheek---or more accurately speaking cheek to temple. She was wearing heels. He felt her relax against him as she calmed. She might have learned how to flirt and pretend to feel comfortable in large groups ---but she was still a sensitive, innocent young woman who'd suddenly found herself in over her head with a man she didn't know how to deal with. They danced for a few moments in silence.

Harry was glad he'd been there to help her, though he wondered where Tom had gone. Harry had half expected to have to thrust Tom aside in order to deal with Natwick himself. The music came to an end. Malista reluctantly released Harry and moved back. He grasped her hand. "Malista, we need to talk."

She glanced around at the crowd. "Neelix said he programmed a private balcony, for-" She forgot what she was supposed to say as she gazed into Harry's honest dark eyes. "There's a balcony up those stairs where we can talk."

Taking her hand, he led her up the stairs, hiding his smile at the ease of finding privacy on a crowded holodeck. 'What a remarkable coincidence!' he thought sardonically. 'And in a crowd this size, no one else has found it.'

Sue Nicoletti sneaked another peek around the trellis. She quickly gave Torres the all clear signal---once she got her attention. Just in the nick of time. If B'Elanna had continued 'distracting' Tom for another few minutes, items of clothing would have been removed and a major scandal ensued concerning two of Voyager's senior officers' lack of proper decorum in public places.

Torres managed to get both Tom and herself on their feet before Nicoletti 'surprised' them by noisily approaching. She brought them each a cold beverage. Pretending she was unaware of what she'd interrupted put a strain on her acting ability, but she managed to carry it off since Tom's mind was occupied with other things. He was using his hat to fan himself in an effort to reduce the radiant red heat coming off his body in waves. He moved slightly away from B'Elanna to remove the stimulus that was provoking his reaction before he embarrassed himself.

Torres slid her eyes up towards the balcony's location. Nicoletti nodded, smiling brightly. She bit her lip as she noticed that Tom had drained his icy glass in three gulps, then pressed the cold glass to his forehead.

***********

The balcony was actually a private terrace with a view of the dance floor on one side and a view of the pool area on the other. The balcony itself was screened from the view of those below by the large leafy pots of plants placed intermittently along the rail. The furnishings consisted of one table, two chairs, and a large love seat. The terrace was lit by branches of candles that provided a soft, romantic glow.

Harry fought to stifle a laugh as he took in the transparently obvious stage setting. He wondered which of Malista's friends had planned this part of the evening. He would bet on Nicoletti. Or maybe Torres. The Delaneys would have been even less subtle. They probably would have included a bed, rather than a love seat.

As they reached the balcony, Malista pulled her hand from his and turned away from him to look out over the railing to the dance floor below. Other couples were dancing and enjoying themselves. She didn't want to look at Harry Kim. Her guilt at deceiving him threatened to overwhelm her.

"Malista, is something wrong? Did Natwick scare you? I won't let him hurt you, I promise," he said soothingly.

"Harry, don't," Malista rasped, her voice catching in her throat, strangled by unshed tears. "Please, I can't do this!" She couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Can't do what?" Harry inquired lightly, coming to stand just behind her, not touching her, but mere inches away. "Malista?" he said questioningly. "I thought we came up here to talk."

"Harry, stop. Don't be nice to me," Malista rasped, her voice catching in her throat, strangled by unshed tears. Her hands clenched around the railing. "Please, I can't do this! I can't play these games. Maybe Jenny and Megan can, but this just isn't me," she replied, a hint of desperation appearing in her voice as she tried to control her roiling emotions. "It's dishonest. I'm sorry."

"What games?" He put his hands on her bare shoulders, his thumbs delicately rubbing small circles into the softness of her golden skin.

She exhaled a shaky sigh and fought an impulse to lean back against his chest and beg him to put his arms around her. "Dating someone different every night, flirting with other men in front of you to try to make you jealous---manipulating you. I mean, if you were interested, you'd let me know. Right? I wouldn't need to---And if you aren't---I don't want to ruin any chance of friendship by ---"

The words froze in her throat like cubes of ice as she felt his hand stroke down her arm then up the bare skin of her shoulder and throat. His fingers brushed her hair back behind her ear. "Wh-what are you d-doing?" she stuttered breathlessly.

"Moving your hair out of the way," Harry whispered just below her ear. He gently tipped her head back to rest against his shoulder. His lips explored a trail up, down, and around her neck, pausing to rest momentarily on the pulse beating, ever more rapidly, against his mouth.

She twisted away from him and whirled to face him, backing up to the balcony railing, holding her hands up to keep him at bay as he pursued her. "Harry, what are you doing? Are you playing games now? Is this some kind of revenge---"

She stopped as she caught a glimpse of his expression. There was no anger on his face. He was smiling at her---sweetly, as if she'd said or done something that pleased him enormously. She wanted to reach out to him and gather him into her arms---but she couldn't. There were too many misunderstandings between them. He held his hand out to her once more.

"Harry?" There were multiple questions contained in the one spoken word---questions and an element of hope. Trustfully, hopefully, she placed her hand in his. He led her to the love seat. As they sat next to each other, he took both her hands and held them between his own. She waited for him to begin.

He smiled at her and squeezed her fingers. "Malista, this time, can we talk until we're both very clear on what we mean? I have a feeling that I haven't been communicating too well. And this time, we're going to try being honest---and open. No more half truths, no more pretending. Okay?"

She felt her heart melting in the warmth of the look in his eyes and his smile. "Okay, let's communicate this time---honestly."

"Honestly is a good idea," he agreed. "Openly is a better one. When I told you I wanted to be---just friends---I wasn't being open or honest. I was still trying to protect myself---and you."

"I don't understand."

Harry frowned as he tried to think how to phrase his next comment. "I wanted to be friends---but not just friends. But I wasn't sure if that was what you wanted." He sighed. "There has to be an easier way to communicate. After that night, after your first 'kissing lesson', I knew I was attracted to you. I knew I liked you very much. But---I wasn't sure how you felt or if there was going to be a future to our relationship---or if you even wanted one."

Her doubtful expression told him she wasn't sure what he meant. "I kissed you back, Harry. I enjoyed it."

He knew he was going to embarrass her, but he'd told her he'd be honest. "Malista, I was the first man you ever kissed. Your response could have been purely physical."

She was blushing and looking down at their joined hands. "I don't think that's what it was, Harry. I've been kissed by other men since then."

The green-eyed imp of jealousy pounced on Kim's shoulder, jumping up and down and shouting in his ear. He swallowed hard and spoke carefully. "Really? Who?"

She didn't look up. "I let two of my dates kiss me good-night when they took me home."

"And?" He didn't dare say more or he'd be demanding names and wanting to know how their kisses rated---when compared to his.

"This sounds awful," she mumbled. "Remember I told you about the shivery feeling that wasn't cold?"

"Uh-huh." He bit his lip, not sure he wanted to hear this. So much for craving honesty.

"Well, when they kissed me, it was shivery---but not warm. More like shivery and---Ewww!" She shook her shoulders as if throwing something off. "I didn't like it at all. Why do you think that was, Harry? Wouldn't that mean that with you---it wasn't only physical? Or does that mean I didn't like kissing them, but I might like kissing other men?"

Harry released her fingers before he squeezed them into paste. "Malista, you ask the most---I may not be the best person to ask. I'm biased. You're tempting me to be dishonest. I think you liked kissing me because you're physically attracted to me and you also feel some affection for me. Right?" He tried not to hold his breath as he waited for her answer.

She beamed a radiant smile at him. "Right. But I thought you said it could be just a physical---"

"Don't quote me at myself!" Harry reproved. "Malista, some people can have lots of physical relationships without getting emotionally involved. Some people can't. I fall into the second category. I think you do, too. I think you wouldn't enjoy having sex---or any kind of intimacy---unless your emotions are involved."

She nodded. "You may be right."

"Lord, woman, you scramble my brain. I don't know how you expect me to have any coherent thoughts when you look so---and say such---" As if he couldn't help himself, he leaned over and kissed her, his hands framing her face, then tracing her neck and shoulders. He pulled back for a moment. "And I don't want to think about you kissing other men, so don't ask me this kind of stuff. You're making me crazy."

"Sorry, Harry." She chuckled.

Harry put a little distance between them to lessen the temptation to forget about talking. "Now, as long as we're being open and honest---let's talk about what you said a few minutes ago. Games? Flirting? Making me jealous?"

She winced. "I'm sorry, Harry. It seemed harmless at the time. Except for George. On the dance floor, I was afraid you were going to hit him. We---I never meant for it to go that far. It got out of hand."

Kim smiled ruefully. "That's why those kind of games are dangerous. Not everyone plays by the rules." His curiosity got the better of him. "And what do you think would have happened---if I had hit him?"

"You'd get thrown in the brig for fighting," she said, stating the obvious. "You know it wouldn't be just one punch. The two of you would make a mess of each other."

He grinned. He was relieved to know she didn't think he would have been an easy victim for the much larger man. "True. I'm glad Natwick backed off. I'd rather be here with you than in Sickbay or in the brig. But, let's get back to the point. I know why you wanted to make me jealous. It's because of what I said when we talked in your quarters. That I wanted to be friends. What did you think I meant?"

She gazed down at their joined hands. "I thought you were trying to tell me in a nice way that you weren't interested in me---romantically. I thought you meant that you enjoyed kissing me before---but you weren't interested in doing it again. I thought---you lied about being attracted to me."

Harry sighed deeply. He put his arm around her, pulling her to his side as they reclined against the back of the love seat. "I didn't mean any of those things. I'm sorry, Malista. We could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble if I'd bothered to think about what I was going to say." She settled her head on his shoulder. "Now, let's try this again. In your quarters that evening, I said I wanted to be friends, because I didn't want to rush you. I told you I felt guilty about kissing you---and about taking advantage of your innocence. I thought we should slow down. I didn't mean I---never wanted to kiss you again. Being near you---Help! I'm getting incoherent."

She giggled, muffling the sound in his neck, as her fingers stroked the smooth muscles of his chest revealed by the v-necked shirt. "Go on, Harry. You're doing fine. So you do want to kiss me again?"

"Repeatedly," he affirmed. "But when I was talking to you that night, I wasn't sure what I meant either. I was confused. Malista, there's something I have to tell you. There's a girl back home---"

"Libby." She braced herself for something she'd rather not hear. She could tell by his tone.

Harry wasn't surprised she knew the name. He'd talked about Libby all over the ship. "Yes. The truth is I love her," he said simply. "If Voyager wasn't in the Delta Quadrant, we'd probably be married by now. But as things are---" He paused.

She waited, patiently, breathlessly.

"When I visited the alternate time stream, Libby said there'd been a memorial service for all those lost on Voyager. I'm sure that's true in our reality as well. We've been missing for three years. That's a long time to wait for someone that everyone tells you is dead," he murmured. "Malista, I've been---lonely without her. I've missed her, but I can't go on waiting alone---on the chance that we'll get home. I'm an old-fashioned kind of guy. I don't rush into relationships. It took me three weeks to get up the nerve to ask Libby for our first date. But what I want to tell you is---""

"You don't have to say it, Harry," she interrupted. "If you don't want to---"

He put a finger over her lips to hush her. "I said we were going to communicate openly and honestly---no more misunderstandings. Let me finish." He waited to make sure he had her complete attention. "Now, what I want to say is that I'll always love Libby and have feelings for her, but I think I'm ready to let her go. I don't know if I'm ready for a new relationship. I don't know if you're ready for your first relationship. In spite of the Delaneys' tutoring and your sudden rash of dating, you have a lot to learn. You're an innocent, Malista. I don't think we should rush into anything. Do you understand what I mean?"

She lifted her head and met his gaze directly. "I'm not sure. Are you saying you don't want to rush into a relationship with me?"

"I'm saying there is no rush. Period. We're going to be on this ship for a long time. We have time to let our feelings for each other---friendship, romantic---whatever---we have time to let them grow and develop naturally. We don't need to hurry along." He stroked her from neck to bare shoulder, as if he couldn't resist touching her.

"You think I was trying to rush you? By making you jealous?" Her hand came up to caress his cheek, her thumb following the line of his cheekbone.

"I think you were rushing both of us. You've never had a romance before. I know this week you've had several dates, but I feel a certain responsibility to watch out for you. I was the first man who ever kissed you. "

"But you aren't the only man who's kissed me," she reminded him, sliding her eyes up to tease him.

"You let all your dates kiss you?" he growled

" No. Just two of them. Isn't that proper protocol? I mean Megan and Jenny said that when a man takes you out---"

"Never mind that," he snapped. The green-eyed imp was back and doing a war dance. "I can't believe you'd take advice on men from the Delaney sisters. They're notorious flirts and teases. Just because you date a man doesn't mean you have to kiss him!" He did not look happy.

Malista almost regretted teasing him---almost. "The Delaneys do have kind of a---liberal outlook, don't they? I appreciated their help and advice, but my style and their styles---may not be compatible. It was kind of them to help me get past my fear of men. I needed someone to teach me how to act with men. If you don't want them teaching me, do you want to teach me?" she whispered hopefully.

"Yes, please. I think I can handle the responsibility that goes with that assignment," Harry said, smiling into her eyes. "But we can take things at our own, old-fashioned, slow pace."

Malista giggled and kissed his forehead. "Harry, you're so sweet. You make us sound like turtles. Can I ask you a question?" Her hands were outlining his shoulders and chest as she reveled in the silkiness of the shirt material and the warmth and smooth musculature of his skin beneath it.

"Sure." His voice sounded strained. They needed to get out of this private love nest before things got out of hand.

"Could we continue the kissing lessons? And when can we start?" she asked with a twinkle in her green eyes.

"Whoa! Malista, when you ask me questions like that---" He released his hold on her and flung himself back onto the love seat. "Sometimes, when I'm holding you or kissing you---I forget how innocent you are---"

"I'm really getting tired of that word!" Malista snapped, flouncing away from him to sit as far away as the love seat permitted.

"Okay," Harry said reasonably. "Let's make a deal. I won't call you innocent, if you don't call me cute."

"Cute? You aren't cute. Puppies are cute," she explained. "You're good-looking. You're handsome. Why would anyone call you cute?"

Harry bounced forward on the love seat, latched onto her arms and kissed her fiercely. "You are a beautiful and wise woman." He kissed her again.

She pushed him away gently. "But Harry, you haven't answered the question I asked before. Why do I like kissing you, but not other men?"

"Other men like who?" he asked suspiciously.

"I don't think you need to know which ones. Are you jealous? Really?"

"Yes," Harry admitted. "You can tell your coconspirators that their plan worked very well. I was jealous. I felt stupid for feeling jealous. We didn't have any kind of commitment to each other. I just knew I didn't want to think of you with other men---even innocently---on double-dates. But, in a way, I think it was good for you. I think you learned some things by dating all those men."

"All those men?" she echoed. "Harry, there were only three."

"And you kissed two of them!"

"But I didn't enjoy it!"

"But you kissed them anyway!" he said indignantly.

She smiled. "I take it back. You are cute---when you're jealous."

"Argh! You admitted you kissed them!"

She caressed his cheek soothingly. "Just once. Each of them kissed me goodnight at my door. It was very--- platonic. And you're right. I did learn a few things during my week as a social butterfly. I found out that men are people too. That I shouldn't be afraid of all of them, just because some of them are rats."

"And you found out you're pretty. And that lots of men would like to be with you," Harry added. "That's what I meant when I said you needed to take your time. I didn't want to be the man you were with because I was the first man to kiss you. I wanted you to choose me---knowing that you had a choice. I wanted to be your first choice---not your last chance."

"You are," she whispered. "You are so special. I can't think of anyone I'd rather have as my---life lessons instructor."

Kim smiled and pulled her into a hug. "Some people can have lots of relationships ---I'm not one of them. I'm monogamous by nature. And for me, more than my hormones have to be involved. I want to be sure you feel the same way."

"So, where do we go from here?" Malista asked, softly nibbling on his ear lobe, enjoying the shudders of pleasure that rippled through his body as his arms tightened around her.

"I've heard that somewhere before," Kim mused. He forced himself to disentangle himself from her embrace and stand. He extended a hand and pulled her to her feet. "How about if we take it slow and get to know each other? We aren't in a hurry, you know. Neither of us is going anywhere." He seemed to be reminding himself.

She pretended to frown thoughtfully. "Just one more honest question? I want to be sure I know where we stand. Does this mean we're dating other people?"

"No! Absolutely not," he said adamantly. "In fact, right now would be a good time and downstairs would be a good place to let people know that we are now officially a couple."

"A couple of what?" she asked mischievously.

He punished her with a quick, thorough kiss that left her breathless. "Any more questions, Miss Shadow?"

"Just one more," she said, her smile dropping away for a moment as she looked down at him. "Harry, does it bother you that I'm too tall for you? I know Natwick kept making jokes---"

"That idiot!" he snorted. "Let me see." He peered up at her, as if studying the height difference and its ramifications from a scientific perspective. His hand snaked up and caught the nape of her neck, urging her gently to bow her head the requisite two inches. He kissed her again, first her mouth, then her chin. "What do you know? B'Elanna was right. Tall people will bend down when given sufficient motivation."

Malista smacked his arm lightly. "You better restrict your experiments to this tall person---or else!"

"What have I gotten myself into?" Harry said. He glanced down at the dance floor below and remembered the other thing he'd wanted to say. "Oh, and Malista?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"You should tell Nicoletti and the Delaneys that they should be less obvious when they plan to trap a man. That jealousy ploy was a little overworked."

"You knew it was a plot?"

"I'm an Operations Officer. My job is to see how systems work together. I figured the whole thing out by your second date. I didn't know what to do about it, but I knew what you were up to," he said.

"You knew it was a plot? But you still came tonight?" she reiterated.

Harry put a protective arm around her. "When Sue told me George Natwick was involved, I knew I had to be here. He can't be trusted where women are concerned. Or are you telling me he was supposed to maul you on the dance floor that way?"

"No. He was just supposed to dance with me and flirt with me. Thank you for rescuing me," she said, bestowing another kiss, this one on his forehead. "You're a very good dancer, Mr. Kim," she added. "So, where do we go from here?"

"How about downstairs to the party?"

"And then back to my quarters for another kissing lesson?" she asked, smiling wickedly.

"I've created a monster!" Harry exclaimed. "If we start going too fast, you need to help me resist temptation! Say no, woman!"

"That could be a problem," she teased. "Didn't Tom ever tell you the meaning of my name?"

He shook his head warily.

"In Greek, Malista means 'Yes, indeed'. I may be a girl who can't say no!"

Harry slapped his forehead. "Oh, I am in big trouble!" He grinned at her, looped her arm through his, and led her down the stairs.

"Maybe more than you know," she said, pointing down the stairs.

A slightly disheveled Paris and Torres were waiting at the foot of the steps. It was apparent from their flushed faces and angry expressions that Tom had been determined to go up to the balcony to check on Malista and B'Elanna had been equally determined that he would not.

As Kim and Shadow reached the last step, Tom's eyes were narrow slits of suspicion. "What have you two been up to?"

Malista smiled at her 'big brother' kindly. "Talking."

"And kissing," Harry added defiantly, deliberately throwing fuel on the flames. "Talking and kissing. And talking about kissing."

Paris stared at them. "What?"

"Get over it, Tom," Torres said. "I don't think they plan to give it up if you don't approve."

"Harry, you and Malista? Really?"

"Yeah. So?" Kim asked, not sure what to expect from his friend next.

They were all caught off guard when Tom grinned widely and shouted, "All right!" He punched Harry lightly on the shoulder. "Thank God! If you two are together, you can help me protect her."

"No, Tom," Harry corrected, "*You* can help *me* protect her."

Tom frowned.

Malista and B'Elanna exchanged a glance that said 'Men!'.

"The question is," Malista Shadow drawled, "Who's going to protect Harry from me?"

Paris looked taken aback. Harry grinned. Malista smiled slyly. 'This is going to be fun,' B'Elanna thought with a wicked smile, looking from one man to the other.

Terri ZavaletaTrials Two: Harry's Trials


End file.
